My husband woke this morning to say he's had a great night's sleep but for some reason had awakened tired.

(Be glad you're not married to me)
I responded with , it was a terrible night. You insisted on the fan because it was near 70 (but raining) and it filled the room with humid warm air and the sheets are damp and I kept waking feeling sticky and miserable all because you didn't want to put the A/C on because we're into fall already.

And...the dog was restless and I was up to put her out three times while you blissfully snored away with your earplugs in.

And...she still wet her bed twice anyway so now I have to wash it and give the dog a bath to get the urine out of her fur.


He then has the audacity to suggest that we move our bedroom upstairs and leave the pets downstairs. Yeah, right! The dog tears up rugs and climbs on the couch and destroys the cushions when we're not near her and she's too lame to make it upstairs and you won't let the vet put her down because she's "just old" and not in visible pain although she can't see or hear or control her bladder and keeps tipping over!

Does that rant qualify as crudmudgeonly?