For Hubs

For some odd reason, Hubs thinks that I portray him as "mean" and "uncaring" and "selfish" on this here blog.
Not a post goes by that he reads and doesn't comment on how "bad you just made me look!"
"They must think I'm the meanest guy around!"
["They" being you, dear reader.]

So, I gave Hubs some options.
Option 1: Edit my posts before they reach dear reader.
Option 2: Have a rebuttal post to "set the record straight."

Apparently, I have selective memory or a distorted view of the past.
I might also have a slight problem with exaggeration.
Its like I have this need to recount things that maybe didn't happen?
Either way, Hubs is never very pleased with how he appears on the blog, so I'm here to set the record straight.


But first, a defense.
Hubs, it is true that you are very sensitive to my continued sleeping (most mornings) (except for your 4 alarms that don't give a damn who's sleeping and go off in 20 minute intervals beginning at 430am) in that you tiptoe around, tuck me back in and generally keep the light out of my sensitive eyes.
But Hubs, Mother Theresa would be labeled as an evil villain if she slept next to me every night with 4 different alarms for company and had a need to get me up before 530am so that I could drive her to work.
See, it has nothing to do with you.
Its me.
Because I'm not a morning person.
This means that if I am made to get out of bed before 7am, I am probably very annoyed/pissed off/angry at what or whoever just made me get out of bed before 7am.
NOT at you!
But at THE SITUATION.

 source

No, not him.
You know, the sleep situation.

So, Hubs, I guess what I'm trying to say is that your alarms will always piss me off, your tiptoes will always sound like stomps and the light, no matter how hard you try, will ALWAYS shine directly in my eyes.
And in those moments, I will blame you for doing all of those things directly to me even though I know that they are only the malicious creations of my subconcious.
Deep down, I know, Hubs, that you would never treat your blond wifey like passive aggressive parents who resort to extreme measures to wake their angry teenager up before 3pm.

Dear reader, Hubs is really the sweetest man I know. I mean, he makes me pancakes every Saturday and Sunday morning while I sit on the couch and veg on the internet. AND, he cleans up after those pancakes. What!? Oh yeah.

So dear reader, please know that these off-character portrayals of Hubs are really only violent acts of my very creative psychosis that sees only what it wants to see and remembers what it wants and thinks it remembers, because they could never be accurate descriptions of my sweet, sweet Hubs.

[Now that's love: the willingness to look like a complete psychopath on the internet.]