Our plan was solid, well executed, but a weak link left a loose end to tie up. It’s supposed to be an even split, but I’m always left fixing shit. He has his strengths, but I haven’t seen them in so long, I forgot what they are. I swear, if he comes over smiling as if “we” did it, I will slap him senseless. He’s making jokes with the host, while I’m cleaning up his mess.
Once, about three years ago, I had to drive 100 miles to get him out of trouble. He calls me the fixer as a joke, but I’m not laughing.
Not that he’s never said: “You are the reason we work.” But that gets old after a while.
One mission, I flew solo, he supported me however he could, but we were both congratulated. Since I’m the only one who can have a baby, I should let that one go.
But that’s how it is in our marriage.