Me, the Screamer!

Growing up, one of the most annoying things I remember my mother doing was screaming. We were fighting, she'd scream. She was startled, she would scream. Something spilled, more screaming. I would plead for yelling instead. The sound of a scream just grates on my nerves!

Chad has shouted at me a number of times to stop screaming. I have always replied, "you want to hear screaming, go live with my mother for a while and then we'll talk about who's a screamer." Me, a screamer? I'm a yeller. Clearly he hadn't heard the difference.

We were getting ready for my company Christmas party last night. Like anytime we do anything, there were plenty of interruptions to stop fighting kids, put back all my makeup Dane was hiding in his drawers and remind Jude to close the fridge after he got his little butt out of it because he doesn't need to be in there taking the foil off of everything and opening more cheese he won't eat. I finally had the hair done, the dress on and was ready to go. Now everyone knows I am perpetually late despite honorable efforts and this night would be no different. (I'm sure plenty of future blogs will detail further). I go to retrieve Dane in the bathroom and there he stands on the toilet, ring cleaning tub in hand, lid off. It was already too late. I stood there helplessly as our wedding rings and every once of fluid spilled out over the bathroom. Pink splatters were everywhere! I stomped and screamed, screamed and stomped. I couldn't stop screaming. Are you kidding me? Why can't we just have to remember where we put the keys like everyone else?

As I crawled on hands and knees wiping up the bathroom, dress and all, I replayed my reaction in my head. Was I screaming? I was, and a lot. I remembered all three times we had to remove the toilet to retrieve something Jude flushed. I remembered seeing Jude drop toys into the wall through the pipe access door in our bedroom. I recalled near burns, spills, startles, etc and realized that I screamed every time. I'm a screamer, NOT a yeller as I had always thought. Did I change my tactics or was I always in denial? I guess I don't know.

I guess Chad gets to be right about something. I had to tell him that I now realize I am not the yeller I thought I was. To hell with it-just another thing for me to scream about.