Don't Make Me Strike You!
I can't take it anymore. I must speak out about "Hubby on Strike."
In case you haven't been watching the news, he's a guy in Michigan
who is on strike because he doesn't want his children (3-month-old
daughter and 2-year-old son) in his bedroom. By going on strike,
he means climbing up onto the roof of his house for up to two
hours a day. While up there, he listens to music or reads.
GIVE ME A BREAK!!!
To me, a real strike would be sleeping up on the roof (after all, the
strike is about kids in his bedroom). Or maybe staying up on the
roof 24 hours a day until a compromise is agreed to. But two
freakin' hours a day? Great Googley Moogley! For two hours a
day away from my kids, I'd go on up on the roof, too!
He comes down to check his website, www.husbandonstrike.com.
Yeah. He's really got it rough. Hmm...does his wife even know
he's on strike? Or is it like a mini-vacation for her when he goes
up to the roof? One less person to cater to.
Why doesn't he just say he wants sex every night? Isn't that the
real issue? If he got that, would he still be having a tantrum and
going up on the roof? What time does he spend with his kids?
Does he work? Let's see...work, reading 2000 comments on his
blog, sitting on the roof for two hours...How much time does
that leave? I am definitely taking sides on this one, and I'm not
on his.
My Hillbilly Husband can go up on the roof any time he likes.
I won't be beggin' him to come down. But he'd better keep in
mind that I can't be climbin' the ladder to tell him: breathe in...
breathe out...He might suffocate!
Now don't go commenting on how I don't love my husband,
or how I'm a man-hater, or how I don't know how to be a
wife. HH used to get the royal treatment. Every night, if you
know what I mean. Stop saying 'Eewww'! I bought him little
surprises every time I went to Wal*Mart. Again, stop saying
'Eewww'! I packed his lunch, washed his clothes, took care
of his previous kids, and worked my a$$ off so he could pay
child support. Did I get any appreciation for it? What do you
think? So after he had a fit when I asked him to throw his dirty
clothes in the hamper instead of leaving them on the bedroom
floor, he started doing his own laundry. Yeah. He really showed
ME! I feel soooo bad that he does his own laundry! Did he ever
bring ME anything from Wal*Mart? No. Not even things I wrote
on a list for him if he was going to Wal*Mart for manly automotive
or tool stuff. Did he ever thank me for anything? NO!
Don't be feeling sorry for poor pitiful HH. I will stalk you and
give your personal information to FITTY, the 55-gallon barrel
killer that Redneck Diva's mom thinks it going to get her.
In case you haven't been watching the news, he's a guy in Michigan
who is on strike because he doesn't want his children (3-month-old
daughter and 2-year-old son) in his bedroom. By going on strike,
he means climbing up onto the roof of his house for up to two
hours a day. While up there, he listens to music or reads.
GIVE ME A BREAK!!!
To me, a real strike would be sleeping up on the roof (after all, the
strike is about kids in his bedroom). Or maybe staying up on the
roof 24 hours a day until a compromise is agreed to. But two
freakin' hours a day? Great Googley Moogley! For two hours a
day away from my kids, I'd go on up on the roof, too!
He comes down to check his website, www.husbandonstrike.com.
Yeah. He's really got it rough. Hmm...does his wife even know
he's on strike? Or is it like a mini-vacation for her when he goes
up to the roof? One less person to cater to.
Why doesn't he just say he wants sex every night? Isn't that the
real issue? If he got that, would he still be having a tantrum and
going up on the roof? What time does he spend with his kids?
Does he work? Let's see...work, reading 2000 comments on his
blog, sitting on the roof for two hours...How much time does
that leave? I am definitely taking sides on this one, and I'm not
on his.
My Hillbilly Husband can go up on the roof any time he likes.
I won't be beggin' him to come down. But he'd better keep in
mind that I can't be climbin' the ladder to tell him: breathe in...
breathe out...He might suffocate!
Now don't go commenting on how I don't love my husband,
or how I'm a man-hater, or how I don't know how to be a
wife. HH used to get the royal treatment. Every night, if you
know what I mean. Stop saying 'Eewww'! I bought him little
surprises every time I went to Wal*Mart. Again, stop saying
'Eewww'! I packed his lunch, washed his clothes, took care
of his previous kids, and worked my a$$ off so he could pay
child support. Did I get any appreciation for it? What do you
think? So after he had a fit when I asked him to throw his dirty
clothes in the hamper instead of leaving them on the bedroom
floor, he started doing his own laundry. Yeah. He really showed
ME! I feel soooo bad that he does his own laundry! Did he ever
bring ME anything from Wal*Mart? No. Not even things I wrote
on a list for him if he was going to Wal*Mart for manly automotive
or tool stuff. Did he ever thank me for anything? NO!
Don't be feeling sorry for poor pitiful HH. I will stalk you and
give your personal information to FITTY, the 55-gallon barrel
killer that Redneck Diva's mom thinks it going to get her.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 6:16 PM
7 Comments:
If that man were my husband, I would be like "Bye honey don't let the door hit you in the a$$ on the way out!"
I feel sorry for his wife. She's probably the one taking care of the kids and I'll bet he doesn't do a dang thing. I could be wrong, but if he's going on "strike" what other conclusion should I reach?
What's wrong with a kid sleeping with his pacifer anyways??? He's TWO!!!
Sorry. His blog just rubbed me the wrong way.
Well I can't read his blog. I guess he didn't pay the GoDaddy bill. But I'm sure I would have wanted to discharge some bile while reading it...
Oh my gosh. I was just commenting to Tater this morning that we women are complicated creatures and it's getting to where I don't want to deal with them anymore (Girl Scout drama, long story), but then I read this about a man copping out and running to his roof every day? Men aren't complicated, don't misunderstand that - they are so uncomplicated it's ridiculous. Predictable, selfish and ungrateful are other words I have used lately when speaking of them.
And while I'm up on the soapbox - I bring Mr. Diva little treats back from Wal*Mart when I go, too. A candy bar, a CD (If I've done well at the casino, lol), little things like that. But not once - NOT ONCE - has he ever surprised me with a little something. I'd even settle for a stinkin' Wal*Mart Tire Lube Express inkpen that he'd lifted off the counter. Just SOMETHING! Grrrrrrrr.
Oh and don't even get me started on the laundry.
I haven't read the striking husband's blog, nor will I even allow my mouse to direct me there. I'm refusing to read it out of sheer principle, but I gotta say I'm with ya, sister.
I'm with the Diva. Boycot the striking blog. What a twat!
Chick,
I agree. He's all about ME ME ME! How dare he take that attitude!
Mr.,
His comments were growing by leaps and bounds. He reminded me of Al Bundy and his NO MA'AM garage-club-for-men, or whatever it was called.
Lessa,
I agree with you on the bandwidth. He had over 2000 comments on the last post when I linked him. I really wanted people to see the picture of his tent on the roof. I saw it on the news, and he looked ridiculous.
Diva,
They are so simple. Like children. Or dogs. Not that there's anything wrong with that...
Miss Ann,
I'm surprised by all his comments. I didn't read them, but I wonder if they are all men supporting him. If so, I am shocked that so many men are READING something instead of shouting WooHoo at the television. Games, commercials with girls, trucks, food...it doesn't matter what's on.
Sorry, Mr., that you have commented in the middle of our male-bashing extravaganza. We mean you no harm. You can be our mascot if you keep quiet and do as we say.
Would you really want to know us if we were all slushy and 'sensitive'? Some of us try harder than others granted, but in my experience men have no idea of how to moderate affection. They either buy you flowers every day and creep you out or they don't bother their arses at all. I think it's about our mothers and taking things for granted.
Pop psychology 101 wit' 'da ill man'............
Ill Man,
That is it EXACTLY! There is no moderation of affection. They are seemingly insensitive to our needs, or go overboard like a stalker. And I see a double meaning in "don't bother their arses at all." Yeah. They don't bother to wipe them.
This is very insightful, Ill Man! You have enlightened me.
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