Got in an argument with Mr. Rant today. I hate arguing with him.
And of course I'm a woman so my brain works like a bowl of pasta. We start bickering about one thing and I bring something up from a week ago. Not fair, I know, but you've seen bowls of pasta! Everything is all tangled together. I can't help it, it's biology.
So we start in on how inconvenient my toe breakage is for him. To be fair, that is my interpretation of it. That then goes to certain people who shall remain nameless, how the morning diaper belongs in the trash not on the table, and how he can't tell me anything.
In my defense, if it is dropped on you that your account is 1,000 in the red, you will be a little shocked and/or ask a lot of questions. But that was months ago and my reaction was justified. Give a girl some notice! Today we are R$1.50 in the red and so on in increments of R$10.
In his defense, how annoying is it to bitch about how clumsy your wife is to only have her complain about how your Mother has yet to go see your son play soccer. Related? Of course not. Again, bowl of pasta and I have no control over it!
I know what you are thinking, Brazilians are passionate and argumentative people. They like a good back and forth. Not Mr. Rant. He's not so into that kind of reaction. He likes smooth and calm, no waves rocking the family boat. The problem is that I'm not a canoe, I'm a diesel speedboat cerca way too clunky to be on the water. I make waves by walking, aka broken toe.
Add in lack of sleep, stress from work, stress from parenthood, and no date night. We have to have some pretty good humor, which my household rarely lacks. This morning was one of those rare mornings. Giggles were low and Sass was WAY high.
Ah well, free English lesson in how to bitch at your spouse for the neighbors.
As for Mr. Rant, once I drive you crazy, you'll have an easier time relating to me. I love you!
