My Husband Is Officially....

....on my sh*t list.

And, yes, I am aware of the fact that I just used a four-letter word on my blog. But I blurred out part of it for those of you that would be offended and there just isn't another term to describe a sh*t list. Crap List isn't menacing enough. Bad Things To Do To My Husband just doesn't cut it either.

No. The little....he....ARGH! The butt of a man decided to "prank" me.

Here's what happened. I came home from work and put some groceries away and jumped in the shower. I just so happened to forget to lock the front door, but I didn't even THINK about this until I thought my life was about to end. My husband came home, rather quietly, and decided to prank me. He decided in the two minutes it took him to walk in the door and figure out I was in the shower to pull a very, very mean prank on me.

Normally, he teases me by just walking in on me in the shower (i know, i know, TMI, that's why i am not going any further). This time though he decided to "teach me a lesson" so to speak. I was in the middle of shaving my legs when I heard a light thump against the door and then a really loud BANG. Like someone was trying to break in. I jumped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Then....I just stood there, staring at the door. And then I looked at my curling irons and figured the intruder wouldn't wait for me to heat one up before attacking. So I did a quick inventory of what all was in my bathroom. Cuticle scissors, nail clippers, hairbrush, razors, and tampons....not much to fend off a determined threat. And, crap, where was my cell phone?! Oh yeah, in my purse! In the living room! Then the doorknob started turning and what did I do?

I threw all 120 lbs of me against the door and yelled in what I hoped to be a menacing voice, "WHO'S THERE?!" which I'm pretty sure came out in a low squeak judging by my husband's reaction. He burst into laughter outside the door. I turned my eyes away from the little window above the toilet that I was considering breaking out of and my face went from horror and fear to extreme, extreme anger and wrath.

I threw open the door and began screaming. My husband claims a few four-letter words came out of my mouth along with foam, shortly followed by steam from my ears. I threw a few punches and kicks, none of which made contact in my rage. After screaming about not having finished shaving and the bodywash puddling around my feet I brought my knee up to his crotch (which he deflected and then acted oh-so-offended by) and slammed the door. Hurriedly I returned to my shower to simmer down and shave the rest of my leg, (i hate it when i get interrupted while shaving, don't you?) then I burst out of the bathroom still screaming and ranting.

My husband then annoyingly began telling me to calm down, not at all bothering to ask if I was alright or ANYTHING. Still shaking from the adrenaline, I burst into tears. He just stood there laughing until he realized I REALLY didn't think it was funny at ALL. He put his arms around me and just held me and rocked back and forth awkwardly trying to comfort me.

I blubbered out how I thought in those 67 seconds I was going to be killed or worse by a ski-mask wearing hoodlum and how he wouldn't know what happened to me and no one would be there to comfort him and Lucy was a sucky attack dog....

....then my husband did something that he very rarely, if ever, does....

He apologized and then kissed me. And I forgave him.

Then he began laughing at me again.