The sonnet of the bad wife...

I feel the need to tell everyone how I am a terrible wife.

It all started yesterday...when I tripped off of my pedestal! Jeremy had a migraine, and it pissed me off. Maybe because I am pregnant. I dont know, I was pissed. Please understand my nightly ritual: He has school on Mondays and Wednesday nights. So, he doesnt get home until after 10. So, I leave work at 5pm, drive an hour home, get home around 6pm, and like last night, I had to go to the grocery store. I feed my farm of animals (7 cats, 2 dogs and 2 fish) and no, one of the dogs is outside, and no I dont have a filthy house. I get so tired of people assuming that I live in cat piss and feces because I have 7 cats...this is not the case. I have 3 litter boxes, each of which is scooped out 3 times a day with fresh litter added each time. I dont want to smell my cats. My dog doesnt do his business in my house either. I get so tired of getting judgemental looks from people when I say I have 7 cats. Now, thats off of my chest, I can move on...anyways, by the time I take care of them, get Bjourne in the truck and buckled, and get my Dad, it's 7pm. I race to his house, and start the spaghetti sauce last night. I brown the hamburger, I get the tomatoes and tomato sauce added with the chili sauce and instruct my sister to watch the sauce so that it can simmer while I am the store. I had to take Daddy shopping. So, we end up spending an hour in the grocery store, which is normal for the both of us to get what we need, and it was an enjoyable shopping trip. I get back to my parents to discover that my sister doesnt want to eat my spaghetti. The little ungrateful snot! So, I finish up cooking, eat and get myself together to go home...and I get home, and my husband is laying in the bed. I was angry! I needed him to help me out. He ended up helping, but I was still mad. How ridiculous is that?
So, I fuss at him, and he gets up and he scoops the litterboxes, and he leaves the bag in the back bathroom...whats the point of scooping it?? He had already knocked and exploded the can of PAM out of the cabinet, so he stomps back there to get the bag, and as hes coming out, he stubs his little toe on his OWN m&m car he got for Christmas last year. And he yells savagely at the top of his lungs "F*CK!" I had to laugh, I couldnt hold it in. I just couldnt. I laughed hysterically. And I laughed until I freaking cried.
He didnt come right out and say it, but he thinks that makes me a terrible wife....