When I kill him I hope the news calls me the Nutty Buddy Terror

When Mark and I found out about Marshmallow one of my first honest to goodness thoughts was this:

Mark and I will never fight again. How could I possibly fight with this man? This WONDERFUL man who I have CREATED LIFE with. How could I EVER get mad at the FATHER OF MY CHILD? We are permanently joined in this world and our bond? Our bond is now UNBREAKABLE.


Realistically, I knew that we would fight, but there was a part of me that honestly thought we wouldn’t. That the power of love and reproduction meant that we were going to beat the odds.

Then Situation Nutty Buddy happened. And those dreams of happily ever melted away like a… like… well, like a forgotten Nutty Buddy.

To help you better understand Situation Nutty Buddy I drew pictures. You’re welcome.

Scene 1: I want a Nutty Buddy.

Item Thumbnail

Scene 2: Mark agrees to get Nutty Buddy for me.

Item Thumbnail

Scene 3: I wait. Patiently.

Item Thumbnail

Scene 4: Still waiting. Still pregnant.

Item Thumbnail

Scene 5: Mark literally starts walking in circles AROUND the Nutty Buddy. I’m wondering if my Nutty Buddy defense will stand up to charges of murder.

Item Thumbnail

Scene 6: He gives me a goodnight kiss. No Nutty Buddy in hand. Oh hellz noes.

Item Thumbnail

Scene 7: I stomp over to GET MY OWN NUTTY BUDDY. Because obviously no one loves me.

Item Thumbnail

I didn’t know how to draw the silent treatment or how I turned the emotional temperature of our marital bed to a solid negative 38 degrees, but just trust that I did.

To say that I was livid about having to get up and get my own Nutty Buddy would be an understatement. ย And all that bull honky about “we’ve created life together” and “how can I get mad at someone as perfect as my husband” was forgotten in nanoseconds. This man was clearly my enemy.

Scene 6: ย I turn into a crying, yelling maniac in an effort to help my enemy husband understand how much hurt he has caused.

Item Thumbnail

I started giggling.

That line killed me.

“You’re driving a 2 penny nail home with a 10 pound sledgehammer.”

And just as fast as I got mad I got glad. Which basically means that Mark is officially married to the hormonal 16 year old version of Marie. And that’s scary. Because that bee-yotch was certifiably Nutty, Buddy.

7 thoughts on “When I kill him I hope the news calls me the Nutty Buddy Terror

  1. Rebecca says:

    You’re so funny – and I love the new design! I hope nutty buddy understands what a mess he created and apologized ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. Tabitha says:

    The fact that you drew a guide shows true commitment. And that you’re a little nutty but that’s why we love you.

  3. Melissa Perry says:

    Marie~ Adam and I both cracked up while we read this and looked at your drawings. It illustrates and reflects the often unspoken feelings and actions of a married couple and it is always refreshing when someone is so truthful about their experiences and is willing to share them with other people!

    Thanks for sharing!

  4. Marie says:

    Rebecca, thanks ๐Ÿ™‚ And nutty buddy may be the death of me!

    Tabitha, ha, it also shows true boredom!

    Melissa, aw, I’m glad you guys enjoyed/related! Marriage certainly isn’t always fun while you’re going through the hard parts, but it’s a hoot to laugh about later :p

  5. Secret Agent "CT" says:

    Just so you know…I bought a box of nutty buddies last night. I’ll bring one for you on Saturday night, if you want. ๐Ÿ™‚

  6. […] I’ve been through all the stages of hormonal pregnancy craziness: mad, glad and, now, sad. That’s right, folks, the crazy train has officially left the […]

  7. […] Needless to say, a 6 month pregnant person can be, well, crazy. I was no exception. Seriously, I cried every single day of my second trimester because I kept listening to songs by Plumb. Oh, and don’t forget that time I almost murdered my hubby over a Nutty Buddy. […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: