Showing posts with label husbands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label husbands. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2009

I've been accused

of complaining too much. Seriously, is that even possible?

My husband decided to keep a tally of my complaints. He then was gives me averages. Why oh why did I marry a numbers man. I say I am not complaining but after looking at the definition of complain I think I am guilty as charged.


com⋅plain   /kəmˈpleɪn/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [kuhm-pleyn] Show IPA Pronunciation

–verb (used without object) 1. to express dissatisfaction, pain, uneasiness, censure, resentment, or grief; find fault: He complained constantly about the noise in the corridor.
2. to tell of one's pains, ailments, etc.: to complain of a backache.
3. to make a formal accusation: If you think you've been swindled, complain to the police.

Let me give you an example. When I woke up this morning I commented (not complained) that we need to turn the space heater down at night. I might have mentioned that the inside of my nose was dry as a bone, my lips were chapped and my throat was dry. I was merely backing up my assertion that the heater was too high; I was not complaining.

My husband said I was complaining.

Later on I may have muttered something about being crampy under my breath. Darn. Complaint number two. I said it didn't count if I was talking to myself under my breath.

I then suggested I wanted all of my complaints reviewed by a complaint department to see if they actually were in fact valid complaints. You see what I sometimes consider conversation my husband considers complaining. I am sorry if I like to chit chat about what ails me. I am sorry that I am often cold, hot, tired, cranky, stressed bored, ill etc! I don't excel at many things but I am really good st complaining, I like to think of it as an art form that I have mastered. If I could get paid to bitch and moan I would be rich.

Did I complain when my car battery was dead this morning? NO! Now someone did complain and bitch about doing manual labor in the cold while someone else watched out the window- but it wasn't me.

The way I see it I am going to have to either A) stop talking to my husband or B) sensor everything that comes out of my mouth before it leaves me mouth C) Move into a nursing home where the people complain as much as I do.

None of these options appeals to me in the least. I am being picked on and it stinks; Not that I am complaining or anything!