Sunday, September 8, 2013


When I think of words I could use to describe my husband, punctual is not one of them.

Day #1, I realized that Ryan runs on his own clock.
Date #1, 2008

Still to this day, when out with friends or golfing, or whatever - he will tell me to expect him home at a certain time, and I ask, "Is that Ryan time?  Or normal people time?"  Because if it's "Ryan time," I should tack on an hour so, and if it's "normal people time," I should tack on 15 or 20 minutes.

(In case you were wondering, "Lauren time" is 5-10 minutes early)

Up until recently, I would let this charade continue without putting up a fight.  As irritating as it could be, it wasn't worth getting into an argument about*.

*I am a very non-confrontational person, and would rather hold my irritation/frustration inside and get over them myself than say something that would risk sparking an argument.  This is true for anyone, not just Ryan.

One time recently, I tried to play the bitchy card.  I wasn't mad, but I was certainly thinking, "Seriously?  Get your ass home," and tried to convey that through our conversation.  Long story short, I'm not good at being bitchy (I crumble like coffee cake), and it didn't get his ass home any sooner.

So, the other night, Ryan went to meet some buddies at the local watering hole to watch football.  He left at 5:00 and said he'd be home at 7:00 - with food for mama.

7:00 came and went.  Shocker.  At 7:30 I sent him a text and the sassmouthin' began.
Me: Hi
Ryan: Hey babe! One more beer.
Me: You said 7:00.
Ryan: I know.  I'm talking a lot. I have your food.
Me: You having my food doesn't help me eat, now does it??

Guess who was home five minutes later?  He claimed he didn't notice the time.  Pssht.

Maybe there is something to being sassy afterall?

Take Luck,

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