Nocturnal Journal

Paranormal Romance Author
Mandy M. Roth
Vampires, Werewolves & Faeries...Oh My!
Monday, December 20, 2004
Floats like a butterfly, stings like a bitch…?

Nothin’ says lovin’ like your hubby giving you a punching bag (heavy bag) as an early Christmas present. Do you think he’s trying to tell me something? Perhaps he thinks my upper body could use the help? Maybe, he believes that not all women desire kitchen appliances. It could be that he bought it for me, but really wanted it for himself (everyone who knows Shane can stop laughing now…we all know it’s not that one). Maybe he thought the gym we have in the garage needed that added touch. He might have stared at the spot the previous owner had a punching bag in and thought it needed to be filled once more.

Unsure as to his reasoning for this, I flat out asked him. He gave me his notorious sheepish grin and said, “Well, I thought you would get your use out of it.”

I asked him to clarify that statement and politely pointed out that I have no anger management issues.

He replied, “Because you have no anger management skills.”

This is wrong for so many reasons! I am a sweet, caring individual who puts the needs of mankind before her own. (Everyone who knows me can get off the floor now.) I am a giving person. Why just the other day I gave a lovely young gentleman at the mall a piece of my mind, along with all the promotional material he’d shoved at me. Sure, it…umm…all sort of flew into the air and scattered around the floor, but I can hardly be blamed for that.

Some might say that I have a good deal of pent up anger. I say that’s ridiculous. I don’t cage my rage. It flows freely, allowing me to have low blood pressure. Not one to shy away from confrontation, I find myself wrongly labeled as a bitch, an instigator, a sociopath. I dispute these claims. I can hardly be expected to stand around and smile while someone is being a moron. Can I? Wait, you’re telling me that my husband “helping” with the laundry and washing my dress shirts with the towels doesn’t qualify. I beg to differ.

I once entertained taking courses on being a lady. I then decided I could just as my brother. (RUNS from Kris…mmmuuuwwwhhhhaaaa, AND Mom, I know that he’s a heterosexual male who is happily married but I reserve the right to make fun of him the rest of our natural lives. That’s what big sisters get to do. Hey, it beats telling him that the muscle cream in the master bathroom was toothpaste. At least he didn’t need to get his stomach pumped this time. SEE, I am a sweetheart.

Well, while I ponder the age old question of “why is Mandy such a bitch,” I’ll try out the XMAS present and keep you updated on its therapeutic value. If anything, it should making ducking a habit of the past for my dear sweet laundry challenged hubby. Hey, is washing dress shirts with towels ground for divorce? JK

posted by mandymroth @ 8:07 AM  
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