It Is A Slow and Painful Death... Hormonally Speaking

I had an interesting conversation with my husband last night. He was editing a magazine article he had written and we were talking about him asking our neighbor if he could take a look at it before he submits it.

Me: "I could edit it for you."

Him: Sounding a little haughty, "No, I don't think so"

Me: "Well why not?"

Him: "Just... because."

Me: What is this article about?"

Him: "Economics"

Me: "So, let me read it."

Him: "You wouldn't understand it."

Me: blinking back my disbelief in his dance with a slow and horrible death, "I don't understand economics?" Then I turned to my daughter and said, "Your father thinks he is smarter than me."

Him: "It is not that I think I am smarter, it is just that I understand this and you don't. It would be like you asking me to edit a paper on hormones for you."

Me: Again blinking at him in disbelief, not knowing I had actually married a CAVE MAN! "Oh... hormones."

I did not reply, I simply walked into the kitchen and proceeded to:

• eat an entire chocolate cake
• throw an expensive plate against the wall screaming "NO ONE UNDERSTAND ME!"
• start to cry hysterically
• grab my car keys and head out to Target to see if there is anything I may need to buy.

My husband looked at me in complete disbelief.

Him: "What is wrong with you?"

Me: "You wouldn't understand... it is hormonal. By the way, tomorrow I am selling your golf clubs and donating your collection of sports jerseys to Good Will. I must be hormonal. Also, I want you to paint the living room yellow and the dining room red... don't ask me why, I am hormonal. Oh, and if you want to have sex tonight--I am feeling hormonally imbalanced and I feel a headache coming on. But I wouldn't expect you to understand."

I then run into out bathroom and lock the door... I can carry on like this for weeks! I bet I am editing that economics paper by tomorrow evening.