The Wife Speaketh (Mrs. Moog's Five Commandments...OF DOOM!) | Mental Poo

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

The Wife Speaketh (Mrs. Moog's Five Commandments...OF DOOM!)


You may need to push aside the milk to read this.

Give me a minute...you'll get it.

The other day, I published Five Commandments that I would dictate if I was God.

(Keep in mind that my name is "Rod," so - really - I'm only one letter off)

I'm supplementing those five commandments, with five commandments that I think my wife would make if SHE was God.

(for the record, her name isn't even close - doesn't rhyme with 'God' or anything like that - so I'm not sure this is going to happen)

Anyway...here goes:

Mrs. Moog’s 5 Commandments:



Commandment #1:

Thou shall stop forgetting sh*t you stupid, stupid man.


My wife can somehow remember what earrings, pants, shirt and type of eyeliner she wore on the 3rd of February in the year 1992.

I have no idea how she does it.

I, on the other hand, have already forgotten what I've just typed.


I've also forgotten every conversation that she and I have ever had...

…unless she put it on a sticky-note where I could reference it.

If it wasn’t for sticky notes, I’d probably be writing this right now without pants on.

I'm THAT stupid.


I’ve also forgotten our anniversary….

…and, more recently, her birthday.

(this was brought into stunning clarify last year by the carpenter working on my house...when I called him to see how the work was coming)

Me: "Hey, Len...how's it going?"

Len: "Good. Hey..um...did you know it was Jen's birthday today?"

*cricket*

No.

No I didn't.

Me: "Oh....SH*T."

Len: "She was betting us that you'd forget."

Yep, I forgot.

Why?

NO F*CKING STICKY NOTE!

Let me tell you, guys…

…that was a bad, bad day in the history of me.

Sticky notes.

Word to the wise.



Commandment #2:

Though shall move things in the refrigerator when you’re looking for them.


An example:

Me: “Hey! Where’s the ketchup?”

Wife: “Um…did you look?”

Me: “Yeah. I looked.”

Wife: “Did you actually MOVE ANYTHING when you looked, or did you just look in?”

Um…

No.

I didn’t move anything.

I just looked in.

In an attempt to appease her, I slide the milk a 1/4 inch (2 kilometers for those on the "metric system") to the right.

Ah…THERE it is.

Dammit.


Commandment #3:

Thou shall not touch my f*cking laundry


I'm not allowed to touch her laundry...or even think about ASKING to do it.

Because I shrink things.

Sometimes, the shrunken things also change color.

Yeah, it's pretty...but it just makes the situation worse.

I get yelled at.

I don’t do this anymore.


Commandment #4:

Thou shall learn how to park


I can’t park.

It’s one of my faults.


When we go out, I either:

a) park crooked

b) park halfway out into the lane

c) park 3 miles away from the entrance to where we’re going, even though there were free spots 5 feet from the door

(this usually happens when it's raining)

d) have to straighten myself using the “12-point” method, because I can’t steer her barge of a minvan


I’m a good driver.

But, yeah…

Not so much with the parking.

Commandment #5:

Thou shall clean up after yourself


Wife: “Did you make coffee?"

Me: “Yeah, why?”

Wife: “It looks like the Colorado Dam burst on the counter top. Seriously, you can’t see this?!”

(I look at her pointing at small pond on the countertop…now home to several species of indigenous fish)


This happens EVERY SINGLE TIME I make coffee.


I need to remind myself to clean up.

I should probably use sticky notes.

But...

...I’ve been staring in the drawer for an hour now...

...and I can’t seem to find the damn things.

Maybe I should move something out of the way in there.

Nah.

22 comments:

AngryMan said...

Her five totally suck.

Malicious Intent said...

You poor, pitiful, sad bastard. Must be a bitch being you. Must be even harder living to you. Hats off to the Mrs. Mooog for allowing you to breathe. :)

Elise said...

You can't park?! But you're a man! It's women that can't park!

Mrs Mooog has her work cut out at times.

She can always get you back if you forget her birthday. She can just chew with her mouth open until you drum the date into your head!

xx

Kitty said...

My second child has the 'ability to look properly for things' gene missing. It's going to cause numerous problems in life, I can tell. He's a smartass when it comes to commenting on my parking too ... let's just wait and see how good at parking he is when he's old enough to drive.

Preposterous Ponderings said...

Funny as hell!

The picture of the kitchen is so true once a man has been let loose to cook one simple thing.

It also appears you search for something in the same manner as my old man does. He NEVER moves anything to look for something and then bitches because he can't find it!Lazy bum!

Maybe I should stock up on the sticky notes...

billymac said...

holy break-dancing christ, you forgot her b-day?

Becky..Absent Minded Housewife said...

Forget the sticky notes. (heh) Just get reminder tattoos.

My verification word is "txttyfud". I feel dirty somehow typing that.

wolf said...

My wife could have written #3 and #5.

I forgot her birthday once. ONCE.

Sticky notes are a marvelous invention.

Mimzie said...

Oh man, you sound just like my boyfriend! Your wife is a Saint!

mauniejames said...

I love mrs mooog...she's smarter then me..she at least realizes your problems and doesn't expect a lot from you...I should try that with hubby...nah wouldn't work...

moooooog35 said...

Becky:

If you've read any of my other posts (see: "Needles" or "tattoos" on the left), you'll know that I'd much rather forget another birthday that subject myself to another tattoo.

I'll stick with the post-its and cross my fingers.

Mee mOe said...

LMAO...GOM...too funny...thanks for the laugh of the day on this shitty Tuesday !!!

Buzzardbilly said...

My sister parks 3 miles away from the entrance to any store or mall. She says it's to be sure people don't park beside her and ding her paint with their doors. You may wanna put that one on a Post-It in the car, in case you need an excuse that glosses over the parking ability thing.

My sister's one commandment: Come up with logical reasons to explain your faults as wise choices.

K. I made up that last part cause she's could park it anywhere blindfolded and not get a scratch because of her magic paint-sensing abilities.

Eve said...

I like your wife more and more. Although I am of the mind set to have you repeat doing something like laundry until you get it right. I would just have you use your own clothes. This was very funny.

Mike said...

Moooooog:

Good move man. Making her think that you shrunk her clothing when in reality she actually just got fat.

Protect her self image and it's just so much easier to be you.

moooooog35 said...

Mike:

I have no idea what you're talking about.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Hungry Mother said...

You should slap the shit out of her for those, figuratively speaking, of course.

HeyJoe said...

It takes a real man to admit that he can't park for s*it.

That being said, I park like a f*ucking ace.

OK, I used to. I also have trouble with the mini-van. But f*uck, piece of s*it is like driving a god damn school bus. God DAMN.

diziizle said...

thank you man , wanderfull blog !

Regard
dizi izle

Christopher Gehler said...

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGE! *in a whiney voice* I go to jail, turn 20, and come back to see I'm still not linked to your wonderful blog...

*stomps off* I know who I have to blow to get linked but I don't wanna!

moooooog35 said...

Chris: Yes, I've been amiss at updating my blogroll.

That said, you don't have to be such a whiny pussy douche about it.

(I get this attitude from Tequila)

I'll set you up in due time. But you need to start posting less poetry.

Poetry sucks ass.

Unless it's a limerick.

Then, at least, it's worth reading.

random moments said...

Damn, somehow missed reading this one. This is terrific! My boss does the Colorado dam thing with his coffee too. And his sugar, spoon, napkin and paper towel, all over the counter falling into the sink. *sigh*

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