Crazy Thought, But.....

I think my husband ruptured his Achilles tendon on purpose.

There's no doubt it's ruptured. I've seen the limping. I've seen the uncontrollable muscle cramps. I've seen the extensive bruising. I've seen the walking cast the doctor gave him. I know he has an MRI scheduled today that's just a formality according to the doctor. It's all real, that much I can attest to. But the real question here is exactly how far would he be willing to go to get all the damn attention that should rightfully be mine?

I've had my hysterectomy planned since before summer started. Unfortunately, due to stupid ass specialist scheduling (no, really, it was an ass doctor who made me wait a month and then put me through his whole little shop of horrors), all of my workup literally took the entire stupid summer and now I find myself scheduled not only NOT during summer when my mom was here and ready to help me, but at the end of summer and the first day of school. So the day that two of my kids start back to school, I will be hopefully not dying on an operating room table. We moms adapt quickly, but dads not quite as easily, so leaving the first day of school issues, all the driving to and from, the soccer practices/games, etc. to Jay was already something I wasn't happy about. Can he do it? Probably. Can he do it as well as me? Fuck no. That's just proven logic. Women can handle the multitasking and stress involved with back to school. Men are pretty much good for making sure kids get to school with their teeth brushed. But I had to get this done and over with while my deductible is paid up, so I took a deep breath, put on my big girl panties, and started the process. I've got all the school supplies (and even loads of extras) bought, distributed, and stored away. I've spent unspeakable amounts of time on the phone with the college bookstore to get all of Ryan's stuff ready for college. I've been through the shoes fiasco with Branden. I've got Branden's and Justin's soccer schedules, Ryan's college class schedule, Ryan and Justin's work schedules, and the bus schedule all printed and ready. I'm off work. Jay's off work. I've literally taken care of every single foreseeable event so that I can peacefully recuperate. Except one. Jay rupturing his stupid ass Achilles.

Now guess who's getting tons of attention? Yeah, THAT guy. Never mind that I've had misery heaped on pain with just a touch of crazy for the last several months. Suddenly, my migraine isn't nearly so impressive next to something as drastic as, oh, I don't know, a fucking ruptured Achilles! 

So I have to now wonder......would he have done this on purpose? Obviously the chances of planning and then successfully attaining an injury like this is pretty slim. But then again, he DID suddenly play tennis for the first time in years. What was that all about? Then somehow an athletic, fit, vigorous person has a total tard moment on the tennis court and this happens? Come on. There was some thought behind that. I think he suddenly realized he was going to be unnoticed for several weeks and the idea of being my nursemaid/bitch as well as Mr. Dad was just too overwhelming, and he couldn't help himself. He realized the only way out of it, short of running away from home (which I'm not saying he didn't also contemplate, but even he knows there's nowhere on God's earth he could go where I wouldn't find and drag his sorry ass back from), he decided the only way to avoid MY job was to fling himself after that tennis ball and hope that something would be damaged enough to not only fuck me and my plans, but also look good and gain sympathy for himself.

Skeptical? Sure. Possible? Not really. Do I still believe he did it? Damn straight I do. Either way, my ass is gonna be planted on that couch for a while and nothing else he does or damages or breaks or amputates is gonna change that. This is MY time, dammit. If he wants to be broken, he can plan it out and schedule it just like I did. That's just how thoughtful and considerate adults are supposed to act.