Heavy Breathing

My husband has an issue with his breath. He's that guy at work that has the onion bagel for breakfast, Indian for lunch - and thinks I'm hyper sensitive. I tell him - FREQUENTLY - "Good christ man, your breath is disgusting." Now I know that sounds harsh but I've tried subtle. Not so much. So at this point I'm like "Dude. Y.O.U.R. - B.R.E.A.T.H. - I.S. - R.A.N.C.I.D. And still, he does nothing. If you knew the story of how we met, you'd know that the breath issue is long loooonnnnnnggggg standing.

So the other day we were having one of those ridiculous fights that couples have. I started it - annoyed at his eye-rolling. I was on my way to the supermarket and he made some stupid ass remark about us not doing anything and my going to the store on a Saturday night. My feeling was we weren't doing crap anyway so why not at least be productive? It launched a heated "discussion" on our (mutual) lack of motivation, how we live and finally, that him being on paternity leave is not code for "vacation" and why the $%^ are we putting off today things to tomorrow and dragging out minute tasks over a week plus period? Ultimately, he is going to go back to work and I'm stuck shoveling metaphorical shit.

Suffice to say names were called. I think I said something along the lines of "Stop being a f"n jerk" to which he replied "Well don't be such a bitch" and then, my friends, the shit HIT the fan. Because I'm not at all about the bitch label. At all. No need for it. I think I then threw down the mom gauntlet. That I had gained 60 pounds, lost 8 months of my life, and had children CUT out of my stomach for him and that HE was the one that was pissing and moaning about his 4 squares a day anyway. What IS it with men and "needing" to eat anyway? Do they have different blood sugar levels?? And that the only reason we even needed groceries was that he was such a big fucking baby about food and for god's sake man, eat anything and just be done with it.

Within about 4 minutes we mutually realized the futility and the insanity of fighting and by the time my shoes were on, bag in hand, my husband had beckoned me over as if to perch on his lap but really for a hug and kiss.

As I leaned onto him, affectionately for sure, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

"Your breath smells disgusting"

and with that he gently pushed me off his lap and simply replied
"and you're still heavy."

And so our marriage goes on.