Honey Do

While I was in New York, my husband did a ton of work around the house. He even tackled Mount So-Much-Laundry-It's-Mocking-Your-Efforts-to-be-a-Domestic-Goddess. It was really nice to come home to a clean house.

But he also left a Honey-Do list for me on the table. It read:

• Drop my suit off at dry cleaners
• Buy new underwear
• Change calling plan

Whoa. Wait. What?

Now I know that something like 90% of men's underwear is bought by women. (Okay, I made that up. But it's probably true.) But I can't recall a single time that I bought my husband underwear. So I asked him about it.

Me: Your list says, "Buy new underwear." You want me to buy you underwear?
Him: No. YOU need new underwear.

I guess it's time for a trip to Victoria's Secret, huh?


*****

After re-reading last night's post, I can see that I am doomed to live at least half of every month in a PMS-induced bitchy tirade.

Ugh.

Even I don't like me now.

For the record, I have a tremendous amount of respect for mothers who can raise a handful of kids to be nice people and good citizens. It's just that none of these mothers seem to live near me.