Argument

Sweet Husband and I got in to an argument the other day.

While most couples argue about important things such as

money, the children, what school district to live in... we argue about much, much more 

important things.

 Sweet husband walked in the door Tuesday afternoon after a hard days work. He hurt his finger at work and had to do a lot of hard manual labor. On top of that he has an allergy mess going on that he lets me know about every 5 to 10 minutes. I had a hard day of moving furniture, touching up paint, moving all of Cullen's clothes into his new room, cleaning out Slaten's closet and taking all the toys and separating them into their new spots in the playroom. I cooked the kids lunch. Dusted and vacuumed the majority of the house. Threw a load in the wash and did the dishes. I kissed boo boos and filled sippy cups 26 times. Held a crying toddler during a tantrum or two. Needless to say.... I did a whole lot.

 So Sweet Husband mentioned that the grass needed to be mowed. Well we all know who does that job..... ME. But Sweet Husband decided he wanted to do it. Then the argument began. 


I'll mow the grass today.

Um, excuse me? I'm sorry I don't think I heard you quite right. Hang on let me set this crying toddler down. You said you were going to get the mower out so I can mow the grass today, correct?

No, I said I was going to mow today. I had a hard day at work and I just want to sit and mow. You know, do some good ole manly yard work. *Side glances at toddler with snot running out of his nose and hand covered in an unknown substance*


But I need the break! You have to let me mow. I mean look at them. I've been with them all day and if I don't get some alone time soon you know my eye will start to twitch. Come on! *Side glances at toddler who is now making an escape because he has figured out how to open the front porch gate.*


Besides you got to sit in quiet and ride home from work. That constitutes as a break! Come on. Hand me the keys. *Reaches out to grab keys*


Well, I'll just start it and then you can finish. *Takes off running to the barn as I say "BUT"*










I sat on the porch and watched him mow. The children were crying because they weren't allowed to run out in front of the mower and I swapped up between pouty face and scowl each time he passed by. He didn't take the hint. He just waved. Eventually I just went and stood in the yard until he got off the mower and then it was my turn! I'm not sure what I'm going to do when the grass stops growing. I guess I'll have to find another "chore" to allow me a break. Maybe I should try my hand at chopping firewood......