if there was any question...

...and sometimes there is. Sometimes I wonder who this small person who lives in the room across from this one is. She's so different from me, sometimes, that it's hard to see myself in her.

This was the case today, when we returned from her school and she decided that what she wanted to watch was something like Frosty and Friends Sing-Along Songs. Ugh. Christmas tunes, my very favorite in all the world. And, then, during her viewing of this spectacular (but pleasantly short) video, she started talking about weddings...AGAIN.

My child is obsessed with weddings. I have no idea why. I've never suffered this fever, not even when it came to my own wedding. It must be something with the dresses and the bounce houses (our dearly beloved friends rented one of these for their wedding this summer). So, yes, I blame this obsession on freaking Disney princesses and on those same dearly beloved friends who asked Pic to be a flowergirl in their wedding (the wedding was fabulous, by the way).

So, on and on she yammers about the wedding.

"Who's wedding," I ask.

"My wedding," she replies.

"Who are you going to marry?"

"S." [The ringbearer at the wedding.]

"Why S?"

"Because he said 'Yes' when I asked him."

And, ah, there it is. This is definitely my child.

"Papi said 'Yes' when I asked him, too," I told her.

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In other non-news, I was tired and out-of-sorts (to put it nicely) today. I was immediately annoyed with Cardo when he came home. (Screw you and your full-time job that takes you out of these walls that I so often allow to close in around me.) I tried to hold my temper. I asked him, as usual, "How was work today?" "Slow." ...

No, "How was your day?" or anything. Although, he did ask me later, "What did you do today? Nothing?"

Yes, fathead, I did nothing. I sat here in my mangy pajamas and drooled. I was so pissed at him that I told him, "Yes." Sure, I do nothing here. I got Pic up and fed and dressed, teeth brushed, lunch made, hair combed. I helped her into her big puffy jacket and walked her to school. I washed the dishes (by hand, I prefer this to the dishwasher) and folded and put away the laundry. I fed myself. I picked up. I read. I blogged. I made dinner. Damn it all to hell and back, dinner was almost finished by the time he came home, so it's not like I started it after he got here. So, yes, aside from that, I did nothing.

Now, I'm not saying that all of that is anything extraordinary. I didn't scrub toilets or cure cancer, but it sure as crap wasn't nothing. I hate that he assumes this. The man only occasionally washes dishes and no longer does his own laundry. He barely spends any one-on-one time with Pic, so most of the bringing up of the kidlet is done by me and her teachers.* It's not like he ever cleans the cat pan and I can't remember the last time he gave Pic her bath. I know that he goes to work a ridiculous amount of hours a week, but he still has two full days off. I appreciate what he does for this family, but I feel like he all-too-often assumes that I do, well, nothing. I'd love to trade him for a week. I'd hate doing his job, but I think that he'd equally hate doing mine.

So, anyhow, sorry. Or not. I just needed to vent. We'll just spend the rest of the evening quietly avoiding each other, reading our own books. Then, I'll put away the clean dishes and wash the dinner dishes. Then, tomorrow, he'll be off to work again and I'll bath, dress and feed our child. I'll take her on our regular outing, we'll grocery shop a tad, I'll read to her, wash more dishes, clean the cat pan, take out the trash and make more dinner. All of which, y'know, is...nothing.

The end.

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P.S. I know that the tones of those two parts didn't quite match, but I didn't want to create two separate posts.

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* I'm not saying that he doesn't play an active role in her upbringing. I'm just saying, well, what I already said. I spend more one-on-one time with her. I could try to explain myself some more, but I'll spare you.