What's. the. big. deal.
I can only assume that he has an unfulfilled wish to be bitten in the face, or crushed under my enormous weight, or otherwise maimed by me because if he didn't, he would never have uttered those words. What's the big deal. Jesus effing Christ.
Now, I get that I am a little type A when it comes to any kind of travel (exhibit A) I have enough self awareness to know that I am a total stressball before we go somewhere. I make a thousand lists, I talk to myself, I am irritable and shrill, and I am a complete martyr about the whole thing. I get it, okay? I know this about myself. But here's the thing: This man has been married to me for more than 13 years, people! HE SHOULD KNOW BETTER !!!
Oh! And you know what else? While I was looking at him in shock and horror after the What's the big deal comment, he says, "Why don't we just not go; you take all the fun out of getting ready for a trip like this." Holy effing shitballs. There are so many things wrong with this, I don't know how to separate them, but let's start with "taking the fun out of getting ready" for a trip: There is NO SUCH THING as having fun getting ready for a trip, which he would know if he ever actually got ready for a trip, but he hasn't, and do you know why? Because, while he sits in his climate controlled cubicle at city hall all day doing quiet and contemplative work, interrupted only by his noon yoga class and his nap on the bus, I AM DOING EVERYTHING! All this shithead will have to do is get in the car and put it in drive. Seriously. And knowing him, he'll probably have one of his headaches and ask me to drive. Well, I've got his headache right here.
He says I should delegate to him, but how does that make sense? He's going to come home from work, eat dinner, and then at 8 o'clock go out and do all the shopping? Or make spaghetti sauce? Or find gloves and goggles for Leila to borrow? Really? Is he new around here? HAS HE MET ME?
I know what you're thinking: I bring this on myself. I am choosing to stress out, I am choosing to make 5 dozen chocolate chip cookies for the trip, I am choosing to lose sleep and make lists and freak out, and I could just as easily choose to mellow out and go with the flow. You're wrong, I cannot choose to mellow out, but more importantly, Rob and our friends will directly benefit from my being stressed and agro now because, as painful as it is for everyone around me, I am efficient, I am organized, I front load the work so I can relax on the trip and put my feet up, and I will have everything covered when we get there.
So, as it is with many of the trips we've embarked on, I want to kill my husband. I wanted to kill him for half the car ride to Disneyland, and I want to kill him now. Most of the time he is a saint and I am a shrew, but some of the time the shrew is right and the saint is clueless douchebag.
If you're reading this, Rob, you should tread very very carefully...