When you’re a mom, you spend a good chunk of your life tending to the never-ending needs of your beloved fuck trophies.  Day in and day out, you’re all “make your bed…brush your teeth……wash your ass……eat your food”.  At the end of day, you plop your cranky ass down, exhausted from repeatedly barking orders, and then seeing that they are carried out, like a drill Sargent.  The very LAST thing you want to do is lob additional instructions repeatedly at your spouse.

I’ve always had several theories on the inane things that zap the bow-chicka-wow-wow outta the normal, loving marital relationship.  But I’m convinced that the TOP reason is that there is positively NOTHING hot and sexy about the need to order your husband around like a child every….single….damn…day!  Infuriating…..yes!  Exasperating……for SURE!   Conducive to toe-curling sex……NOPE!  Not even close.

While I’m nearly certain that the Dick is a fairly intelligent penis person (he DID marry ME after all), I am positively perplexed that he often cannot complete the simplest of tasks without my instructions and reminders.   Conversations often go something like this…..

ME : “Babe….I’m doing laundry.  Can you gather up the shit you need washed.”

ME : (Hours later…..) “Babe…..I’m finished with a couple loads…I couldn’t help but notice that there is nothing of yours.  Could you gather up your shit PLEASE.”

The Dick : (The next day…..)  “I’m out of clean underwear….and its all your fault”.  What he didn’t say, but is clearly understood, is that I should have reminded him AT LEAST 15 more times before he finally understood the importance of gathering up the shit he wanted washed.  Silly me to think that two clear reminders would have been adequate.

 

And its the simple shit as well…

ME : “Honey….did you brush your teeth this morning ?”

The Dick : “Nope……why?”

ME : “Because your breath smells like hot dog shit wrapped around  a used tampon that’s been left in the sun too long…..go brush your fucking teeth for Christ’s sake.”

 

I know that I MUST remind the small penis people to do the simplest of tasks.  If I don’t tell them to wash their asses or brush their teeth, they will happily walk around like tiny little homeless people, a swirl of funk permeating their surroundings.  However, I SHOULD NOT have to remind a grown Dick to do these things.  He HAS a mother.  She’s a wonderful human being who did a wonderful job single parenting an entire brood of children into responsible adults.  And I am not her.

I’m pretty sure that if most Dicks would take a real, honest look at their sex life (or lack thereof) they could find a direct correlation to their inherent need to be bumbling idiots that cannot construct a simple plan for general cleanliness, proper hygiene……or the selection of appropriate clothing.

Recently, I invited the Dick to a work function.  There were to be several local Dignitaries in attendance.  Mayors, Senators.  You get the picture.   It was kind of a big deal and I was all set proudly introduce my wonderful husband.

The Dick : “I’m NOT dressing up for this….”

ME : “Yes…..yes you are.  Simple khakis and a polo shirt would work just fine.”

The Dick : “I’m NOT dressing up….its my day off.”  (Stomps foot for good measure)

ME : “Its not as if I’m asking you to wear a suit and tie…..its fucking KHAKIS.”

The Dick : “Do I have to wear dress shoes?”

ME : “YES!!!  For fucks sake……this isn’t a flip flop event.”

The Dick : “I’m not liking this…..”

ME : “Then you are summarily un-invited.  Keep your cranky ass at home.”

He trudged off like an insolent child and then proceeded to thrust a pout in my direction every chance he got.  NOT SEXY!  I wanted to paddle his ass like the spoiled brat he was acting.  And not the kind of paddling he’d be hoping for, I can assure you.

 

There is simply no time of the night that I loathe more than 10:30 p.m. until 11:00 p.m.  The Dick naps (yes…NAPS….that should tell you something right there) from about 8:30 p.m. until I’m instructed to wake his princess ass up at 10:30 p.m.  Now….you would ASSUME that if a grown person asks to be awakened at 10:30 p.m. that this would indicate that they WANT to be up at 10:30 p.m.  Not the Dick.  He wants me to stop whatever it is that I’m doing (albeit, that would mostly be vegging in front of the TV) and “suggest” he wake up at 10:30…..so that he can roll over….sigh LOUDLY…..and ask me to come back at 10:45.

10:45 comes.  I drift back into his cozy little world and let him know its now 10:45.  Pause……longer pause……”I’m not ready to get up…can you come back at 10:55.”

Now the sigh is coming from ME!  Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!?

Ok…..he’s a hardworking man.  I get being tired (lord KNOWS I get tired….though I DON’T get the naps).  I wander back in at 10:55.  “Babe…..babe!  Its 10:55.  Time to get up.”

“Can you come back at 11:00?”    FIVE MINUTES?!?!?!?!?   What the FUCK difference is FIVE MINUTES going to make?  Just get the fuck up and get your ass ready for work.  ARGHHHHHH!!!!!!!

 

I guess it goes without saying that I’m surely an enabler.  I’m a bad mom…..oooopsy…I mean wife.  I consistently let him act like a child and then get angry when he actually does.  But the fact remains that I have a hard enough time transitioning from tired mom to sexy wife on a good day.   Its proportionately more difficult when I spend my days constantly cajoling my husband into performing normal, grown up tasks.

I would suggest that more Dicks would get far more booty duty if they simply grow up and NOT act like children.  Because let’s face it…..I can be your wife…with all the wonderful wifey benefits that are included.  Or I can be your mom……..and moms DO NOT have sex with their children.  The choice here seems pretty clear.