My idea for this post stems from one this one written by SFTC. Thanks for this inspiration!
My husband is terrific. He has so many redeeming qualities it would be hard for me to list them all. Which is why, in this post, I am going to rant about something all together different...his most annoying habit. Well, I guess you would call it a habit. It's his CrackBlackberry. Seriously, I would like to see that thing suffer a long, slow, painful death.
Like many, I stay home with the children, while my husband goes off to work everyday. When he gets home I like for him to be plugged in here. Engaged with me. With the children. When we sit down to dinner together as a family, my request (okay requirement) is that we eat without outside interruptions. Our children go to bed early. Seven o'clock to be precise, and so it is hugely important that he make the most of his time with them when he gets home. To be clear, this does not mean that he takes over child care duties, it simply means that he be here as an active and willing participant in their lives. For the most part...he is. I said for the most part.
See my husband has a mistress. Oh, there is no other woman's perfume wafting in the door with him when he enters our home. There is no lipstick on his collar. There is never any mysterious late night rendezvous. Nope...his mistress is his Blackberry. That little tramp.
A couple of years ago I made the dire mistake of getting him his first Blackberry for Christmas. I thought it would be helpful for him at work. I thought he would like it. What didn't occur to me then was what an intrusion the little device would be into our lives.
From the time he comes home, the Blackberry is buzzing and chirping almost without pause. Even through dinner, which wouldn't be that big of a deal all by itself. What gets me is the way my husband behaves as if the stupid thing is his lifeline. Like without it, without his constant contact to the outside world, he would shrivel and melt into a puddle like the witch on Wizard of Oz. The buzzing is like a siren song to which my husband has no defense. He hears the buzz and is compelled to action, checking the device with the same feverish intensity of a crack addict about to take his long awaited next hit. We go nowhere without it. Truly, if we tried, telltale signs of addiction would be evident. He would get the shakes. All would notice the tremor in his hands. It would be a catastrophe.
When confronted about his obsession, there is always a legitimate reason (in his mind anyway) as to why he needs to check this message, or take this call. The funny thing is, every message is this message, and every call is this call. No matter if it is Monay or Sunday. Sadly for me, this is a battle I will never win. Why I chose it to begin with is beyond me. I should have recognized his unrelentling need to have her at all times. So while I don't love her (in fact I despise her), I will learn to live with her. As it seems my husband's dependency on her shows no signs of abating. That won't stop me however, from plotting her demise.
