You've heard of "The Rumble in the Jungle," "The Thrilla in Manilla" or "Kramer V. Kramer" right? (Me neither, but I looked them up).
Well, add another fight to the record books: The Cursory Nursery Kerfuffle
I forgot the cardinal rule of pregnancy: don't pick a fight with a pregnant woman and don't take anything she says or does personally.
Actually that's two cardinal rules.
Here's how it all went down: Last night after dinner and a little TV, we decided to put up the curtains in your nursery. Before we did so, I wanted to jump on the computer (not literally, that would break it) for a quick second to check my email and do a few other things.
Meanwhile, though, your Mom was getting impatient with me. I told her I'd be off in a second, and she didn't believe me...which was a good call, because I was definitely on it for more than a literal OR figurative second.
But after a really quick email, and then an even quicker check on something on Facebook and then what was meant to be a really quick check of a PDF that was emailed to me (totally all NOT work related, by the way-- I don't do office work at home, you'll be pleased to know!), she was already beyond impatient.
Your Mom had already moved into the realm of irrational anger and said that I always make her wait! To which I replied, "I'm sorry, I'm here now. Let's put up the curtains."
(please note that all conversations are mere facsimiles of what actually ocurred... I can't remember a whole conversation verbatim!)
(also please note that through no fault of my own [it's mere human nature] the accounts of last night have been retold in a fashion that makes me look 100 % innocent and wonderful and funny to boot!)
"I don't believe your apology!"
"Okay, but seriously I was only on the computer for like five minutes"
"But that's only because I had to kick you off! Who knows how long you would have been on the computer?"
"Well, it doesn't matter- I'm here now! Let's do this curtain thang!"
"You would have piddled for hours and hours on the computer if I hadn't kicked you off!"
Here's where I made my fatal mistake.
Me: "You're being kinda mean and treating me like a child"
"Now you've made me angry! I'm gonna go sit on the couch now and once I sit down I'm not getting up. No curtains for you!"
"Come on, Dude! Let's put these curtains up while we have the opportunity."
"You do it."
"Why are you mad at me?"
"You're a piddler. And you're denying being a piddler to make me look bad on your awesome blog tomorrow."
"You know, I have redeeming qualities too."
"Don't remind me of those right now!" She said while throwing a throw pillow at me (seriously, if they didn't want them to be thrown, they wouldn't have named them that)
(p.s., those last two lines of dialogue and the pillow throw ARE verbatim!)
So, I decided to go upstairs to do homework to abide by that old saying:
"Never hang drapery while angry"
About 20 minutes later I started hearing the tinkering of tools and the soft pitter patter of heavy-footed angry pregnant walking.
I crept downstairs to see what was going on and I see your mother standing on a kitchen chair in your nursery trying to hang the curtains by herself.
Oh, and she was definitely still mad at me. But, she listened to reason at least and got off the chair and allowed me to hang the curtains while she and her stalwart guardians (Toby and Preston) sat and watched me.
2 1/2 hours, 3 unfilled gaping holes in the drywall and the hanging of 2 curtains 3 times later (hey, I'm not a handyman yet!), and the curtains were finished.
And it was curtains on the argument.
Oh yeah, except that I pouted for the rest of the night (which was, by that time, only 20 minutes long).
This morning, though, it's definitely curtains on that little kerfuffle. If only I'd remembered the cardinal rules of dealing with a pregnant woman, the whole thing would have been avoided. But, then again, the curtains probably wouldn't have been hung! So, there's a plus side to everything.
And, as a coda, when debriefing on the events of last night, I recevied word from your Mother that the woman in the house last night actually WASN'T her at all.
I let her know that even if it wasn't her, I was still being a total dope of a moron and should have known better than to pick a fight with a pregnant woman...especially when I was on curtain call! I admitted to being a loutish brute, a no-good ragamuffin and a cantakerous old coot sympathetic to skullduggery. She agreed with me on this assessment.
As a note, man to man, hormones do whacky things to pregnant women. During the whole pillow and stern word-throwing portion of the fight your Mom couldn't stop laughing either, so I didn't know if she was joking or not! Honestly, though, that's not too bad at all to go 22 weeks of pregnancy without one of these hormone-crazed absolutley ridiculous non-sensical scuffles.
All I have to remember is that when a woman is pregnant, her husband is always wrong! Easy enough; future fights mediated.
Note: no curtains were harmed in the making of this blog post. One nursery wall, however, now has three or four extra "speed holes" in it.
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20 weeks ago your nursery was a dining room. Today the old dining room is almost a nursery, the old record stand between the windows is a dining room, the old unused space by the front door is now where the record player stays, the old coat closet is a bass closet, the old bass closet is a nursery closet and the old nook under the stairs is a coat closet. And we're not even closet cases yet.
