Ramadan Is Winning

Ramadan is winning in the Happy Wife House. The husband is exhausted, has something I have nicknamed Islamic-Whooping-Cough, and he managed to fall up the stairs last night. It was very, very impressive. My favorite part of the day is when he asks in a completely serious tone, "What is wrong with me?"

*Crickets chirping*

I also may or may not have told him last night that "Perhaps Ramadan is a young man's game!" which did not go over well.

I had also forgotten the worst part of the whole thing. Once the fasting starts for the day, you can't even brush your teeth. No gargling. No Listerine breath strips, no mints, nothing. You can do nothing.

In other words, the husband's breath is a weapon of mass destruction at this point. All he has to do with anyone who is bothering him at work is to take them into a room and shut the door and talk to them.

Punishment level: Jason Bourne and Dark Vador had a baby and it's my hubby's Ramadan breath.

It's like a family of large raccoons have died in the walls of an old moldy house after collecting an Easter egg hunt amount of rotten eggs mixed with the smell of a nursing home about an hour after it has served all its residents taco bell for lunch (and combine all of that and then stick it out for several days in the +100 degree hot, dry weather we're having and then you're getting close to the idea of the smell).

He doesn't even have to be facing you or breathing with his mouth open. It's that powerful!

On my end, well, some bad breath would probably be a step up. I'm not fasting but I am still trying to plan meals so they are ready when he can break the fast, which means that somehow I also manage to feel kinda crappy by bedtime. Turns out there is a reason no one has slow cooked beef short ribs and gravy over sour cream and chive mashed potatoes with glazed cinnamon apples at 10 o'clock at night.

My "I give up shopping for Ramadan" is not going well. I took a shirt that I had ordered online from Dressbarn back to the store on the second day of Ramadan. I walked out of Dressbarn with a new credit card and essentially everything cute they were selling.

I told the hubby he needs to start blocking websites on my computer and he was all eye-roll-y and gave me a semi-serious, "Sure, okay." I AM SERIOUS. I HAVE A PROBLEM. I NEED OLD NAVY, KOHLS, AND DSW TURNED OFF. NOW.

Because the shoes don't buy themselves.

And my husband shrugging it off like I haven't fallen off the deep end into the interwebs? Only makes me want to buy all the things all the time even more.

I have decided to go back to "I give up alcohol for Ramadan" because the last time I had alcohol was at a work function back in 2001.

Excuse me. The UPS man is here. Fed Ex has already been here. I wish I was kidding.

Ramadan: 1

Happy Wife House: MINUS A BAZILLION