This Is Why Women Get A Bad Rap

Okay, so sometimes, the male mind completely confuses me....

Over the weekend, it was sprung on me that we were going to host a dinner for several (22 - but whose counting?) family friends - on Monday night. Well, I was really busy all weekend, so I never made it to the grocery store to buy the things that I would need in order to make it happen.

A little background:

My husband's family own a ton of rental properties, a mix between commercial and residential, and my husband is kind of a "Mr. Fix-it". The toilet stops up, he's there....Garage door not working, M to the rescue. Anyway, it keeps him pretty busy most of the time and it's actually better for us if he's sitting on his ass doing nothing because THAT means we're making money and not spending it.

So, me being the poor office worker that I am, I'm working away yesterday and call my dear, wonderful, and thoughtful husband to see if he can maybe go by the grocery store, pick up two hams, a ten pound bag of potatoes and some corn. It's three o'clock and people are supposed to be arriving at six thirty.

He's at a sports bar, hanging out with two of his friends, one of which is down from North Carolina for the holidays. I have no problem with this. I NEVER call with the whole, "Where are you?, What are you doing?, WHO are you with?" psycho babble. That's not my style. And on a typical Monday night, if he wanted to roll his butt in at two in the morning, so long as I got a phone call letting me know he's alive, I'm not going to say anything about that, either. I know a lot of people around town. If he screws up, I will get word of it. Trust me on this.

So this is how our conversation goes:

Me - "Hey, babe. Are you busy?"

Hubby - "Nah, we're up here hanging out at Beef O'Brady's."

Me - "Do you have a job this afternoon?"

Hubby - "Nope."

Me - "Good. Will you run by the store and get two of those smaller hams and a ten pound bag of potatoes for me?"

Hubby - "Yeah."

Me - "You're going to have to start them, too. Just put them in the oven around five and they should be ready by seven."

Hubby - "What temperature?"

Me - "325.....Oh, and get some corn, too."

Hubby - "No problem. Love you."

Me - "Love you, too."

So, it's handled, right? Wrong.

I get home at around five thirty, no ham in the oven, no husband in the house.

Guess where he's at...Still at Beef's. UNBELIEVABLE.

He hurries home because I am super de duper pissed. I now have no time to cook anything before people begin arriving. He's brought a measly fifty wings home and expects that to feed TWENTY TWO PEOPLE.

Is he an idiot? Or is this "normal" male behavior? After all these years, I'm still not sure.

We ended up eating peanut brittle, rocky road and wings....Dumb ass.