The Deal

Years ago, when we first started talking about having a baby, I confessed to my wife that my biggest fear about babies is changing diapers.  I just didn’t think I could deal with the smell and consistency of fecal matter on a regular basis.  My wife decided to make me a deal.  If I would deal with all of the throw-up, then she would deal with all of the diapers.  Doing the quick calculations in my head of how many times I would be called into action versus how many times she would, I quickly took the deal, and we shook on it.

Well today, my wife informed me that she was reneging on our deal.  Apparently, one of her stupid friends opened her eyes to the same math that I had done in my head years ago, and suddenly it didn’t seem like such an attractive proposition to my wife.  I tried to argue profusely that a deal was a deal, but she simply said that it was her word against mine and next time I should get it in writing.  I’m definitely getting the hazmat suit now.