Pre... Menstrual... Shakedown...


Why are men so dumb?

How long has he been married to me? Almost 16 years? You would think he would know. You would think he would be able to read the signs. You would think he would go out of his way to make life a little bit more tolerable considering that most of my frustrations come from him-at this time of the month-when he just doesn't let up.

I mean, don't I go out of my way the other three weeks of the month to make him feel loved and as if he is the greatest thing since sliced bread?

Why is it that he waits... like a lion about to pounce on an innocent gazelle, who, when stalking its prey (me, the innocent gazelle), the lion(my husband) changes its posture by lowering its head and body staying low to the ground while keeping a visual lock on the target prey (me). Whenever the prey (me) looks away or looks down to eat (or is suffering from PMS), the lion (husband) creeps closer, and if the prey(me) is to look in the direction of the lion (husband), the lion(husband) will cease its movement and remain still. This “red light-green light” type of interplay continues until the lion (husband) gets within striking distance. After the lion (husband) has entered the striking distance, it pounces and ends the chase rather abruptly (and I somehow look like the lunatic).

The only difference is that when my husband pounces on me during these few, brief, torturous days of PMS (and don't even give me the whole-"Oh but he has to live with YOU during PMS, the poor guy" because I am not buying it. PMS is hell I tell you-hell! If you happen to be near a woman with PMS, do not think of yourself as a victim to her moods... because my dear male readers out there... you are more than likely the cause of her mood. I promise. Do not argue.)

Anyway, when my husband pounces during these few days, I pounce back and then all hell breaks loose and my head explodes and gaskets are blown and tires are punctured... and the worst part about it... THE WORST PART ABOUT IT... is that my husband isn't even HERE! No... he just calls me on the phone and stirs up shit and then hangs up-leaving me to rant and rave by myself, so the next time he calls he has no idea why I am so angry and "irrational" which does not help his case in the least.

Yesterday's phone conversation went something like this-and remember-I am in the throws of PMS so what may sound like a perfectly logical and normal conversation to you, does not sound that way to a woman on the verge of looking for a clown suit, a shotgun and the nearest water tower to climb.

Carl: Hi babe!

Me: grumble

Carl: I miss you!

Me: grumble

Carl: You are so pretty!

Me: grumble

Carl: What are you wearing?

Me: Why? Do you think I am fat?

Carl: No, I think you are beautiful.

Me: Do you need beer money or something?

Carl: No, but if we are talking money, I noticed that the plane ticket to Chicago came across the bank account and it was higher than you had originally mentioned it was going to be. It must have been an over site on your account.

Me: So what are you saying? That I lie? There is something called TAX-look it up.

Carl: No big deal.

Me: And just what are you doing looking at the bank account? You don't even know the value of a dollar where you are!

Carl: I just wanted to see how much the tickets to Nickelback were.

Me: Why? Is there a price on my happiness now?

Carl: No. I was thinking of buying you flowers but wanted to see how we were sitting first-money wise.

Me: Well we are sitting fine-because you have us on such a tight budget that I can't even buy beer this month... and don't give me that "flower" crap.

Carl: Uhm... it was you that set the budget.

Me: Don't try and place the blame on me.

Carl: Okay, well don't forget that Friday is payday.

Me: I know that. Do you think I would forget to pay the bills? I have been paying your bills for years now-I think I am capable of remembering when payday is.

Carl: I know, and you are doing such a great job babe. I am so lucky to have you.

Me: And another thing...

Carl: Wait babe-I have to go! I love you-don't forget payday is Friday! Try and add more to savings this month. Send me a box. I haven't had many letters lately, and can you have the kids email me? Oh, and pictures... you haven't sent any since last week and I need some more. Oh, and can you file the taxes, clean the garage, call my mother, and get moving on finding someone to put in the new counters, paint the house, install the new carpet and move us across town? Spring will be here before you know it! You need to get going with this stuff... but I gotta go-I have to go fly! I can't wait! Love ya babe!

... and then he hung up and I threw the phone across the room.

Do you see what I am talking about? Do you see how he just waits in the brush like a lion waiting for the right moment to pounce?

I hate PMS.


Anonymous said...

Whoa, remember those fun phone calls.
Rule now is no bad news, no what's broken @ home, no the kids are sick, no money/bill or lack thereof discussion....just mushy sexy talk, rainbows & unicorns, preferably with no incoming in the background. Nice save on the flower buying, smart man.
& yeah, we mark "the date" on our calendars. Hope you're feeling better.

Jud said...

My wife had a total hysterectomy at age 30, so we have been without true PMS for some years now. That said, she struggled mightily for about the first 6 months, dealing with the physical and emotional aspects of the surgery, especially the changes in body chemistry.

Then we spent about a year working with the GYN trying to find a suitable hormonal cocktail that meet her health needs, physical and mental.

She screams at me a lot less now, at least less for things I didn't see coming. I still do enough dumb husband crap to get my fair share of yelling.

Men are just that way, and we have only been married about 10, not the 15+ for you and the Hubs.

Floyd R. Turbo said...

June you are so right... PMS is Hell.

TRO said...

Seems his hazard pay shouldn't stop when he comes home.

Hair Bows & Guitar Picks said...

PMS is pure HELL!!!!

Maria Grace said...

You poor girl, maybe you should send this to Mr. Cleaver...


Anonymous said...

Thank God you weren't talking to Carl while driving in the car...you would have pitched your phone out the window...just like Cousin John did one time. At least you only had to go across the room to pick it up. Cousin John didn't even bother to look for his.
Yep, mom said there would be days like this and she was RIGHT!
Love you,
Aunt Barbara

the Mom said...

I find that by staying perpetually pregnant I don't have to deal with PMS at all. You and Ward might want to give it a go!

Stephanie said...

Mine likes to call me when he is on TDY at 6am when I am pmsing. He gets up goes running and then decides since he isn't tehre to rowst me out of bed he has to call me. He did this this morning and I am not in cycle. He just likes doing that. GRRRRRRRRRRR....

That Girl said...

cant stop laughing. These conversations go on in our house too. men can be such jerks!

Sagey said...

Ha ha ha! I feel for you! They think they have to hard on deployment, like to see them stay home and handle the finances, the kids, and PMS for months on end!

On a bright note, Obama gave you your beer money this paycheck. An extra $30 or so should have hit so you can go out and stimulate the economy! ;-)

Why Mom Drinks Rum said...

You know, it's like they tune it out JUST to be able to start crap then punish us for the reactions.

Know what I hate? When I'm perhaps a LITTLE bit more emphatic on my raging in response to something totally 'head up arse' he has said - and if I happen to mention PMS he's all "Oooohhhhh...." like THAT explains my reaction. Not say...HIM being the cause. Argh.

Oh dear. I think I'm there.

rita said...

Just wait till you hit perimenopause. Or it hits you, which is more accurate.

You might want to lock away any guns and knives.

And buy more beer.

Christine said...

I Ditto "the mom" comment....

Anonymous said...

If this were the '70s I'de say he was on Qualudes. He was waaaaayyy to mellow with his responses. lol

Anonymous said...

Maybe if we spent 24/7 learning how to tell people to go to hell in a way that makes them look forward to the trip...we could handle PMS differently. Ya think?
Aunt Barbara

Anonymous said...

I'm there with ya June and this month it feels like my womb is being pulled out and will soon be hanging at my knees, oh well, my breasts are already at my waist so why not?

....sorry, did I go too far?

warren said...

The real problem is that damn phone...it had the nerve to even ring in the first place!

Schmoochiepoo said...

Oh you poor girl. PMSing and the full moon..hubby is lucky to be alive and not within striking distance. :)

You need lots of ice cream and beer. Pull all the money put of the account on Friday and email him that you spent it on a Swedish massuse named Sven.

Gotta say, love the tune-age here. I come for the post, I stay for the music. :)

Meredith Gould said...

Thanks for the laffs and memories. SO glad to be past all that. PMS and perimenopause is horrific but menopause rocks!

Debbie said...

Hmmm...I've had the same conversation with my lion/er husband!

Anonymous said...

I suggest you get yourself some chocolate covered ruffles potatoe chips and enjoy. Hope you feel better.

june cleaver said...

Okay anon "AD" do I know you? Are you someone I have met? Seriously... the whole "Chocolate covered ruffles" is what is making me think that I know who you are-because my husband used to always get those for us.

If I do know you-please let me know so I don't drive myself crazy going through the alphabet trying to think of everyone I know with the initials AD and I have come up with nothing... which, if I do know you, may offend you that I cannot remember-but I hope not.

Anonymous said...

Don't go making yourself crazy, you don't know me. I just enjoy reading your blog. It makes me laugh and god knows we all need a laugh these days.