I'm going to start a stick figure series called Life with Red Ruth: The Chronicles of a Hormone-Stricken Crazy Woman. When I was pregnant with the twins, I honest-to-goodness was pretty chill, totally relaxed. I did not freak out about anything. You can ask David. I regretfully admit that this time around, it's not the same. Which is weird because I actually had more hormones with the girls. Maybe they cancelled each other out, I dunno. This time, though, at the drop of a hat, I can be overcome with a rage monster I like to call Red Ruth. It's a term from the TV show Friends, when Ross would become "Red Ross" when he freaked out over something ridiculous. And poor David gets the brunt of Red Ruth's flames of anger.
There's a chaise lounge type of thing in the girls' bedroom. It came with 100 pillows, which is silly, but they look nice, so we (I) kept them on there. They have to be put on a certain way in order to fit them all and still be able to sit down. Men don't understand this. The other day, I walk into the room and there are pillows EVERYwhere. There were some on the ceiling, I don't know how they got there. Of course, "fun Dad" was letting the girls play on the couch thing. I walk in and see the pillows and freak out. We had a showing in just a second, he knew that and it does take a little while to get those pillows back on just right. And not that the kids can't play on the furniture in their own room, but not RIGHT before a showing, right.
The conversation actually went like this...
Ruth: David, honestly? We've gotta go. Can you fix those please?
David: Yeah, of course, no problem. Come on girls, let's fix the pillows for Mama.
(30 seconds later)
Ruth: Yeah, that's not even kind of how they go.
David: Well, show me how they go and I'll make sure they're like that from now on.
Ruth: (sigh) Fine.
But, in my head and in my rage-induced world, the conversation went more like this...