Did you all read Ash’s post about sometimes wanting to bury your husband in the backyard? If not, you should. Seriously. 

Some days I literally can’t get enough of Myles; with his hilarious comments, and caring spirit.

And then other days I am ready to kill him. Like today. Right now.

He just yelled from the kitchen

“BABE, HOW MUCH IS A TABLESPOON?”

You have got to be kidding me. A tablespoon, is a freaking tablespoon you jackass! (I didn’t say that—out loud)

He also asked, “where are the measuring cups, which colander should I use, and how do I know when it’s ready?”  All of this for one box of Annie’s Mac and Cheese.

Sometimes it is enough to put me over the edge. It’s question after question of things that he could easily find the answer too.

The other day he asked me how to work our new vacuum. My response “Do you think that I took some kind of class on how to use this vacuum, that you missed out on?” And don’t get me started on asking where something is before he God-forbid, uses his own eye balls to find it.

(The problem is that he is not actually this stupid, or dependent. Had he thought about each of those before asking, or had I not been there he would have figured each one out on his own. I refuse to baby him, or I will be 97 and telling him how to put his underwear on each morning.)