Petty things I do to get back at my husband

WHEN you’ve been with someone for 15 years you develop coping mechanisms for the times your spouse is being a douche. Em Rusciano has just gone next level.

IF YOU’VE been in a relationship for more than two years then I suspect you may have developed some coping mechanisms to help you deal with the times your other half is being a complete douche canoe.

In the spirit of fairness I can tell you there are absolutely occasions when my husband could say the same of me. I am not without fault and at times: I admit I can be bloody hard work.

In fact here is my husband now to tell you more about that …

Oh wait he can’t, this is MY column, what a *shame.

It’s OK defenders of the male faith, I’m not going to launch into a scathing tirade against my guy. While that would be cathartic for me I concede it would also be unfair to him.

I’m just going to fairly and objectively present a recent incident that happened between the two of us. Feel free to judge, compare and sentence us at your leisure.

Ha, as if you need my permission to do that.

I may have already lost you at “douche canoe” or perhaps that was the point when we fell madly in love. It really can go either way.

Last Sunday we found ourselves in a stand off over who would be providing the taxi service to our children that afternoon. I had announced earlier in the day that I would be leaving the house at 3pm to take my best friend out for a drink and a show for his birthday.

Well, as you can imagine the house went into a state of shock.

“Who will cook dinner?” My youngest fretted.

“Who will take me to training?” My eldest wondered.

“Dad will! I’m going out, I’m unavailable to you all, it will be OK.”

My husband walked into the room and exclaimed: “I thought you said you were leaving at 5? I can’t do it all today!”

OH THE IRONY OF THAT COMMENT.

You see Scotty had made the rookie error of inviting two other children over to play with our youngest that day, without consulting me, assuming I would be there to help out with the drop offs and pick ups. I won’t bore you with the details of our aggressively whispered words (once the children had left the room). What I will tell you is that it ended in him saying:

“I am not dropping her off at training, I have to pick up the other girls and drop them home. YOU WILL HAVE TO ADJUST.”

What? Sorry what? WHAT?

Then, as you can well appreciate, my face went full Beyonce:

Did he just …

I think he did ...

Oh HELL NO!

“OH REALLY?! WILL I?! I do every drop off and pick up during the week. Just yesterday while you were on your six hour bike ride I did two different sports and two party pick ups and drops offs, after being in Adelaide the night before for my show! I came straight from the airport! You were stupid enough to invite the other kids over without checking with me, I am going out today. YOU ADJUST!”

Long story short I ended up having to drop Chella off at training, he was willing to let her miss it to prove a point. I am the soft touch in our relationship, believe it or not. (FACT: I don’t usually mind doing the drop offs. I love that she plays netball, I love supporting her, that is not the issue. I think you know what the issue was!)

We have been together for 15 years, with a one and a half year break a couple of years ago. We argue a bit, probably the same amount as you do. Maybe a bit more. Our arguments usually have the same themes just different topics and to be honest with you I feel as though we’ve arrived at the point where the words are no longer heard. I feel as though all their power has been used up, dulled, they are lifeless and limp.

The next morning I was thinking about how I could approach this current flare up, I wanted him to know how disappointed I was and then I realised there was no point, we have this argument all the time. Same old, same old. I do most of the kids’ stuff because I work from home and he doesn’t. At times I feel like he doesn’t appreciate that and just assumes I will always be there to cover the gaps.

I would like to add that he is an excellent father and an all-round great, lovable dude, who has to contend with three energetic, highly active, strong-minded females on a daily basis. I imagine he would feel quite overwhelmed with oestrogen sometimes.

But I was working myself up into quite the lather as I tidied our room. I really shouldn’t be left alone during the day … I was thinking about ways in which I could express my disappointment without yelling, and then this ended up happening:

I will not make his side of the bed until he apologises.

You must understand my pettiness knows no bounds. This is the most important stand ever taken in the history of stands, I will not make his side of the bed until apologises for last Sunday’s efforts.

Did I also aggressively turn the hot water tap on and off while he was in the shower last night, so that he got three second shots of icy cold water at 10 second intervals?! YES I DID — NO I AM NOT SORRY.

For those of you in a perfect relationship this may seem like the actions of a desperate, shallow and picayune woman. I get that, but for those of you at 10+ years you feel me, right? Sometimes you need to shakes things up a little, display your dissatisfaction in a different fashion than usual.

So far there has only been mild amusement on his behalf towards my actions but we’ll see how long his smugness lasts when I implement stages 2 and 3 of my petty protests.

P.S. I’m not quite sure of what stages 2 and 3 are, if you have any suggestions please let me know.

Yours from the trenches of marital war,

Em.