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You want me to handle the bills, so for a decade I have. It may have started because you couldn’t handle now much money we spend on them, I don’t really remember.
So now I have become the bad guy when it comes to money. You want a new cell phone, we can’t afford it, so you pout like a fucking toddler every day until I cave and cut money from somewhere else and fucking buy it.
Later, I bring it up. Now that you are calm, can we talk about how that was not a smart financial decision? Can we look at how you acted? I hated that behavior. I wanted it to stop. The perfectionist in me could not handle the feeling I had failed you on this. Do not put me in that situation again.
You do it anyway.
And you do it again.
And again.
Tonight you asked for my input on the purchase of a new car. I explain that it doesn’t matter one bloody drop what I think, you are going to pout until we make the fucking purchase. Now I’m a bitch for saying that so you “put your foot down” and declare we are not purchasing a car. Thinking the matter over, I attempt to eat. You continue to spout reasons why we are basically now fucked because of this decision, your decision. I continue to nod, but offer nothing.
Half an hour later the outing begins. You are either quiet or biting my head off. You snip at the kids, you are being as asshole. I inquire about the issue-you declare you are upset with my choice.
I’ve married a normally rational man who, for some unknown reason, never fucking learned anything about finances who becomes a fucking assshole when money doesn’t flow from the trees.
This is why married couples fight.
Stay single my friends.
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