The Idiocy of Mankind

My husband is either an asshole or an idiot. Of course I can’t rule out the possibility that he could very well be both.

But let me backtrack for a moment.

He came home from a business trip yesterday. He’d been to Israel, with a lengthy layover in Amsterdam. He brought home NINE wheels of cheese and TEN bags of cookies.

(。-_-。)

If you’ve ever been to an apartment in a Japanese city, you will understand why this is a problem. I have absolutely no room to put this stuff. We can no longer use the dining room table because it is now covered in cheese. I mean, there were already three wheels of cheese collection dust from his last trip last month. When I walked into the kitchen at first I’d thought they’d bred and born a large litter.

We can no longer use the electrical piano, either, as it is now covered in cookies. (Well, actually the piano hardly ever gets any use because it is almost always covered in artwork by one or both children. But anyway.) The cookies being in plain sight is a problem with two sneaky children in the house, as I’m sure you can imagine.

But the real idiocy? My husband tells me last night that during the layover in Amsterdam he and a co-worker went to a strip club.

I was shocked. I was pissed. Why on earth would he tell me this?

Because he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. He insists his co-worker wanted to go, and he couldn’t say no. Besides, he continues, the man beside me was an American.

Yes, dear, chauvinist @ssholes who only value women for their sexuality can be found all over the world. That doesn’t make it okay for YOU to go, and the cr@p about the co-worker? What are you, a lemming?

Of course I didn’t say any of that because he was already in 逆ギレ(righteous anger) mode. I was over-reacting, he said. He has a right to do whatever he wants. Fair enough, he does. But that must mean I do, too, does it not? I’m not afforded even some basic freedoms in this family. He doesn’t want me to work; he doesn’t want me to have any money in my name. Not to mention that this country’s laws don’t allow me to vote, or protect me from discrimination, or award custody of children to a foreign parent EVER.

I’ve half a mind to feed him nothing but cheese and cookies for dinner for the next fortnight. I won’t, though, because I’m too mature. It can be quite inconvenient.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Beth
    Dec 01, 2011 @ 23:16:12

    This post made me sad. I better understand why you put up with HRH – you are essentially trapped due to the kids. How did you end up married to him?

    Reply

  2. gaijinwife
    Dec 03, 2011 @ 13:18:09

    cheese and cookies would be far too nice. When I come up to play sans children we can hit the ropongi mens clubs and you can just say well, you had to go, becasue the woman beside you was from New Zealand…

    Reply

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