To anyone who knows me and my husband, it's clear that I wear the pants in the relationship. This does not mean that my husband is a meek, subservient man, however; it just goes to show how incredibly smart he is. Unlike many men, he knows when to let me vent and chooses his battles carefully. We then, (I like to think) have a reasonable discussion about how I can get my way. If the discussion wasn't reasonable, we later have a good laugh about how vehement I was and how red my face got while firing obscenities across the room. It isn't easy wearing the proverbial pants.
|The Pants had a good run|
Our biggest beef these days is M's bedtime; K lets her stay up way too late. Since nothing seems to work, I've put sex on the table (I wish we could have it on the table... or anywhere, really): if M's up past my dictated bedtime, K doesn't get any nooky. This cheap tactic works for a few days at a time so I thought I still had one leg in the pants, but the truth came out last night around the dinner table (NM: Me, K: Hubby, M: 29 month old daughter, Em: 9 month old daughter):
And there you have the story of how I lost the pants. I should have seen it coming... after all, Em had a plan all along.
Who's the boss in your house?