The one where Hubby takes me out...

Sunday. I love Sundays. They are generally fairly quiet at my house. Lu usually works. Hubby usually works, at least part of the day. Bobby is usually at his gf's house in town. So I blog, I catch up on commenting other blogs, and Sean and I watch our DVR'd shows from the rest of the week. I don't cook dinner. I rest. Did I mention that I love Sundays? Oh...sorry...but I do.

It's been a busy week. The trip to Springfield was fun, the visit with my folks was good, and CJ's prom was the best one yet. I will blog it all (with pictures) probably Tuesday. Today is a blog about a week ago Thursday. The fact that it's still on my mind, should tell you how rare an occasion it actually is.

First, to set the scene, Hubby and I have always had our finances together. Seriously, I don't get couples who keep their money separate. If you're one of them and that works for you, I'm not dissing you, I just don't get it. To me, it's a unity thing. If you're a unit, you're money should be together. Why would you keep money separate, unless you had one foot out the door? We've always kept all of our money together. We even had a joint bank account before we were married. We lived together, so having one bank account that I could pay bills out of just seemed logical. Also, if you give my husband cash, he will spend it. Not on large things, just on so many little things that he will not be able to recall where it went. And yet the man manages a several thousand dollar budget every year for his job and is ALWAYS under budget. I give him a $20 and it's gone before I turn my back. I guess the difference is that I'm the one responsible for our budget. And the fact that at any given time he has no clue how much money is in our bank accounts denotes a level of trust rarely seen. But I digress. That being said, the last few years we've also developed "his money" and "my money". The household bills and family accounts are pretty much paid for by his salary, which is in the joint account. Any money either of us gets elsewhere is our own to spend how we want. This could be birthday money, my freelancing money, ect. Most of his goes to hunting paraphernalia. Most of mine goes to books, lunches & dinners with friends or the kids, saving for something I want- like a laptop. Sometimes it overlaps, last freelance paycheck I deposited in the joint account because it was running low, no big deal. If the family goes out to eat together and the joint account is low, it's paid for by me. See a pattern here? So you can imagine my surprise when...

Last Thursday about six o'clock hubby came in from work. I was on the computer doing um...I don't know, something.

Hubby: What's your dinner plan?

Me: No dinner plan. We are the only ones home so I'm not cooking. There's plenty of leftovers.

Hubby: Where is everyone?

Me: Lu & Luke are in Texas. Bobby went to town with Whitney. Sean is in the same place he is every Thursday night, CAP meeting. (It really annoys me when he can't remember something that happens every week)

Hubby: Want to go to The Bar for dinner? (The Bar, seriously, that's it's name, is a little bar in the closest town that serves really good, but really greasy food.)

Me: You buying?

Hubby: Yeah. I can swing that.

Me: *swivels around to face him in complete shock* Seriously?

Hubby: Sure.

Me: Okay. Give me five minutes to get ready.

So we leave the house and I start to walk to my car. Hubby says no, lets take the truck. So I hop in. As we make the twenty minute drive over the back roads, I start to think. So he's randomly taking me out, he's paying, and we're taking his vehicle. WTF?!

Me: What are you feeling guilty about?

Hubby: What?

Me: What have you done? Why are you feeling guilty?

Hubby: I don't feel guilty about anything. What are you on about?

Me: You never randomly take me out. And you NEVER pay.

Hubby: I do ask you to go out a lot. You just never want to because you don't want to change or put on make-up. Which you don't even need to do to go to the bar.

*I thought about this, he's sort of right. The reason I said yes was that I was already dressed nice and had makeup on from an earlier video conference.*

Me: Okay, you do ask sometimes. But you never offer to pay. If I say there's no money to eat out you say OK we don't go.

Hubby: Well, it's rarely just the two of us.

Me: Okay. I still think you're feeling guilty.

Hubby: *laughs* Maybe a little, but only because I haven't had time to do any of the stuff you asked me to do around the house lately.

So we continue our trip to the bar. We get there, we park in the back lot. On the walk to the door~

Me: You've eaten here so much lately, you're probably a regular. I swear you eat here more than you eat at home.

Hubby: Well we've been so busy building the new archery range. And all the guys working on it always want to come here to eat. And you've been cooking all that weird stuff at home.

Me: Um. It's not 'weird stuff'. It's healthy stuff. The kids aren't complaining. Sorry I won't deep fry your veggies.

Hubby: I might eat them if you did.

Me: Well the food here is not good for you. It's all fried and greasy and clogging your arteries. Wait?! I think I hear them screaming!

Hubby: That's just crazy talk. You need to shut up woman, you're sounding really crazy right now!

At this, I started giggling hysterically. Some of you will notice that's a play off the movie "Stepbrothers". Sean and I say the line "Shut Up. Shut Up. You're sounding really stupid right now." all the time to each other from the movie. Hubby never makes movie quote references. So out of character.

We ordered. We got our food. We talked. It was nice. We rarely have time together, let alone by ourselves. We even ignored our cell phones. I'm pretty sure it should turn into a weekly event. But not at The Bar. Because it makes we want to hurl. Seriously. Later that night as I was brushing my teeth before bed and Hubby was laying in bed watching TV, Sean came in to our room.

Me: I don't feel good. I hate The Bar! I always say I'm never going to eat there again and yet I do. Ugh.

Sean: I know what you mean. The food is sooo good while you're eating it, but then like an hour later I feel like I have stomach flu and all I want to do is throw up.

Me: It's because our stomachs aren't used to all that grease.

Hubby: I'm pretty sure that just means you should eat there more. Desensitize your stomachs you whiners.

Me: I'm pretty sure that's not what it means.


Will I eat there again? Probably. It's cheap and it's close. And if Hubby's paying...

Happy Sunday,
♥Spot

Should have stayed in bed...

So it's Sunday morning and I'm slightly disappointed. And really really tired. That's probably my own fault because I stayed up too late watching really bad ghost stuff on TV. And then when I went to bed I saw my book laying there and thought "oh, I should probably finish that". So then I stayed up later reading and still didn't finish it because I fell asleep and dropped the book and it hit me in the face so I threw it on the floor and put out the light.

But this morning I got up and I was all happy because yesterday when I went to town I stopped by my hubby's ex-aunt's- (is that what you call someone who divorces your uncle? and then the uncle dies? but she's still the mother of your cousin?)- bakery and got some donuts. And usually these are my favorite donuts but today they just didn't taste good. Then I went online and read this blog that I found last week and thought was insane and hilariously funny, but after a week I've decided that it's just insane. *sigh* And Sean is playing an xbox game in here because I bought him a new xbox (well it was a late bday present) and he didn't want to put it downstairs in the Batcave because the last one got all kinds of cat fur and dust in it and died. So it's in the family room. We also moved the big TV up here which is crazy because the couch is only like 4 feet from the TV but it's awesome for watching movies on! Anyway his game is really loud and he's sick so he keeps snuffling and coughing and it's really throwing me off my "A" game. (Stop that! Of course I have game!)

So last night when I was watching the ghost shows on Bio., there was this psychic and she was talking about the presence she felt and then she was all like "omg. I'm getting goosebumps and that means that what I'm saying is 90 to 95% accurate". The Hell?? What kind of self respecting psychic comes with a disclaimer?? And does that mean if she's saying something and doesn't get goosebumps she's only 20% accurate and there's a good chance she's totally making this shit up?? I was very nonplussed.

And then they had this girl who'd apparently been haunted because she started playing with tarot cards. And she tried to make herself all out to be this great tarot card reader but she said she did a "Celtic" spread only she pronounced it "sell-tick". And if you can't pronounce it properly you probably should not be doing it and deserve whatever you get! Yes, I know that people get confused because of the whole Boston Celtics (pronounced "sellticks") but since the tarot card spread was passed down from an ancient race of people and not a basketball team you should probably not pronounce it like that. Geez! Where do they find these people?!

Hmmm...reading back through all this, I may or may not be a little cranky and snarky. I think I might go for a walk to shake this mood. Sorry. But I promise you a story to amaze and astonish you tomorrow! Seriously.

fake psychics and stupid peeps,
♥Spot

PS- while I was getting the link to Bio.com for you to link it up, I took the "find your dead celebrity soulmate" quiz and came up with King Henry the VIII. Hahaha. Of course. I've always been fascinated by him. The young handsome him, not the old fat him with the disgusting smelly gimpy leg. And really I'm not all that attached to my head...