Well, I guess you gotta do whatever you gotta do,.... If'n it was me and it po'd me that much I'd go to town and buy about five loaves of the expensive bread. And not say a word about it. Of course, I do call my Mrs. "Ladytalksalot" sometimes, so my not saying anything is as telling of my displeasure as anything else...
And if it's really that bad, one of the other posters is right. Life is too short, and you've already lived through it once, so if it's all about the bickering, you do know that it doesn't take all that long living bachelor style to re-earn half of your shit back....
Just sayin...

quote:

Originally posted by arcwelder76:
You're comparing a loaf of bread to a woman on her periodicals?

You are lost.

K...that's funny, and pretty much on the moola.

Was that bread made from leftover parts or was it made from scratch?

quote:

Originally posted by XLT:
Was that bread made from leftover parts or was it made from scratch?

The Keebler Elves "assembled" the bread from 100% German "parts"!

-BK

Your woman doesn't make your sandwiches for you?

Poor, poor man...

quote:

Originally posted by countrygun:
Last night, when you called and asked if we needed anything from the store on you're way home I told you.

Do you remember what I said?

Is the phrase, "I am going to use the leftovers to make a sammich tomorrow and we are out of bread so pick up a loaf" too much for you?

When you called this morning and I ask you "where is the bread?" You tell me " Look on the second shelf in the fridge, all the makings are there."

I looked, and we have a "Failure to communicate."

I did not say I was going to make a "Wrap", what ever the fuck that is. I did not say I was going to make a "Pocket" either, so the "things" on that shelf will not help me.

I said "BREAD" because I was going to make a fucking "SAMMICH". Not a fucking WRAP, not a fucking POCKET, a fucking SAMMICH.

Paybacks are a mother. I had Chilli. You get a "Dutch Oven" tonight.

There, I feel better.

Maybe the communication problem is on your end, since you aren't even able to properly spell SANDWICH.

My wife tried this once. I then did the same type of thing to her. It never happened again. Oh, and yes, I am still married

quote:

Originally posted by DMF:

quote:

Originally posted by countrygun:
Last night, when you called and asked if we needed anything from the store on you're way home I told you.

Do you remember what I said?

Is the phrase, "I am going to use the leftovers to make a sammich tomorrow and we are out of bread so pick up a loaf" too much for you?

When you called this morning and I ask you "where is the bread?" You tell me " Look on the second shelf in the fridge, all the makings are there."

I looked, and we have a "Failure to communicate."

I did not say I was going to make a "Wrap", what ever the fuck that is. I did not say I was going to make a "Pocket" either, so the "things" on that shelf will not help me.

I said "BREAD" because I was going to make a fucking "SAMMICH". Not a fucking WRAP, not a fucking POCKET, a fucking SAMMICH.

Paybacks are a mother. I had Chilli. You get a "Dutch Oven" tonight.

There, I feel better.

Maybe the communication problem is on your end, since you aren't even able to properly spell SANDWICH.

I make my sammiches with gubmint cheese!

My wife has a tendancy to, honest to god, say the exact opposite of what she means. She also tends to use whatever she is looking at as the noun in her sentence, even if it makes no sense. It's confusing as hell sometimes, but I just repeat things back to her for confirmation all the time, and it works out pretty well. My favorite was when she was asking me over and over for my 'shoe-things' (she was in the hallway looking at the shoe rack at the time.) Finally, after asking me for my shoe-things for the third or fourth time her brain kicked back into gear and 'shoe-things' turned into 'shirt'. It works out though because I think this stuff is hilarious and she doesn't get mad when I laugh about it.

Communication truly is the key, but you can't get too worked up when mis-communication happens. With all the silly, stupid crap going on around us right now it just isn't worth investing any emotion in the promised timeliness of bread delivery!

- Bret

Next time you'll order pizza.

What kind of bread did you ask her to get? For one thing, if ya wanna get technical, she got bread. Unleavened bread to be sure, but bread none the less. Pita pocket bread is bread. Sorry Bub, this is your fault, live with it.

Bread has a wonderful keeping quality. For about a week. Buy a loaf on your way to work. Keep in in your truck.

Yes, if she asks you for maxi-pads, bring her a loaf of white bread. Mis-communication can be used the other way, too.

Oh, bread freezes, too. Buy a few loaves and stuff it in the freezer. It defrosts and becomes edible. Women mess with you all the time. I've discovered its easier to just eat fast food for lunch. Then when she wants to go out, say OK, but you've got to buy, I spent my lunch money this week because we didn't have any fixin's. They hate it when you use their failings against them. But they do it to us, so its fair.

The fact that you had to ask to begin with is where the unreasonable bullshit starts.

WTF is she thinking?

I've learned to assume that when something goes awry in the nirvana that is my marriage, it's my fault. Period.

I've also learned that she will always outwit me, and that two standards apply in the cases where I turn her tactics back on her.

Example? I asked her to cut the grass once, back when I was a rookie. She botched the job, got a flat tire, grass looked like crap. She kinda had a smile as she heard me say "I won't ask you to do THAT again!" So, a few weeks later, she asks me to run buy some fabric for her at the sto. Gives me the design, I get the wrong thing. She sends me back, I screw it up, she sends me back... Finally figured out, she ain't lettin' me off the hook.

I'm well trained now, just sit back and obey. Like a good ol' Labrador, except I usually flush, and I can drive.