Every time Jymi does something sweet, I find out I should be very mad at him. Monday night he went shopping with Latonya, to help her pick out a MP3 player for her son. He came home with an early Christmas present for me: my own MP3 player. He said they looked at him funny when he went to check out with a pink one. Of course people look at him funny when he's out with Latonya anyway. A white boy in his mid-twenties out with an African-American woman in her late thirties gets some odd looks. He said he was also gonna get me a jacket, but he wasn't sure what size to get.
This was all very sweet. When I went to take the trash out the next morning, though, a receipt fell out. It was from a gas station, and everything was abbreviated, like they always are. It looked to me like Jymi's brand of cigarettes, so I asked him about when he got home. He told me he's been smoking for about three weeks now, at work and drill. I was so mad. He said he didn't want to tell me, because I had enough stress in my life already. Having a husband who smokes doesn't cause near as much stress as having one who lies to me. He has apologized, both for smoking again and hiding it from me, but I'm still a little mad at him. He's paying for it, though. He can only smoke outside, and it gets pretty cold after the sun goes down (remembering here, it rarely drops below about 30 degrees F, not considered cold to some people, but it is to us). He also jut bought me all the NPI silks I still need for Persian. He's also gonna buy me the new Best Of Teresa Wentzler book. He says he'll quit in January, but I don't believe he will. I can't make him stop, but I wish I could. All the ways I can think of to get him to stop involve murder, and with Jymi dead and me in jail, there'd be no one to take care of the boys.
It just drives me nuts when every sweet thing he does ends up getting overshadowed by whatever he's done to piss me off.

Labels: Jymi, Real Life Sucks