How’s your “completely unnecessary wifey drama” looking? Well here’s mine: the other day my husband – the only one I have – unfollowed me on Instagram and I was outraged!
Is nothing sacred?! I mean, unfollowing me on Instagram is basically the same as unfollowing me in LIFE! I was flabbergasted. And while I sat there, fuming, in a pile of my own feelings, I decided to drop him a very heated Whatsapp message just to let him know what I think of him and his uncouth behavior.
He responded with a smirk emoticon (gasp – the audacity) and a one liner that said “I’m teaching you a lesson”.
Uhm, hello? This husband of mine – the only one I have – was under the false pretense that he could teach me (his most cleverest wife) a lesson. How hilarious. How insulting. Something had to be done.
I obviously had a very strongly worded reply ready, like only a wife will have. We carry strongly worded replies around with us, in our hand bags, like one would a tazor or a pepper spray. It does the same amount of damage.
Anyways, my reply was going to say something along the lines of: if he feels this passionate about education, he can gladly get a Funza Lushaka Bursary and learn how to do it professionally. But I was like, no, let’s not do that. Let’s bring out the big guns. We’ll play a little bit of “whose shoulder is the coldest”.
Mind you, I realized my genius because it is, in fact, actually seriously cold in real life, anyways. Winter has made a comeback (and she’s brought reinforcements). So my cold shoulder would be in 3D, thanks to the weather.
Anyways, minutes turned into hours (it’s cray how slowly time moves when you have a vendetta and a plan) and I cold-shouldered and only replied to his messages using “mmms” and “if you want to”. I was convinced that I was winning.
But just to make myself feel doubley better, I chatted to concerned friends and they offered advice such as: “Steal his phone and follow yourself” and “Kick his ass” and “Shame, maybe he’s trying to be romantic.”
One even suggested that I put my anger to paper, and so I wrote a clever poem about it. It goes like this:
I once had a husband named Chris
Who has always been top of my list
Until one day the ham
Unfollowed me on Instagram
GASP! I know, what a diss!
Please, hold the applause.
Anyways, ladies, this story does not have a happy ending. Or any ending at all actually. The chop is still not following me on Instagram. I am now filing for divorce.
I’m honestly not that cut up about it. This whole post was written in jest. I love the bugger and his guitar-player fingers (even though one of those traitor fingers hit the unfollow button, but let’s not dwell on the past.)
It’s just been a funny story to tell people. You know, the unsuspecting ones, standing around the coffee machine, who don’t really care… and possibly don’t even know what my name is.
But all jokes aside you guys, this must be said: the only time I’m bugged about my husband not following me on Instagram is when I feel like I’m looking particularly cute today. I mean, how do I show him? Right? We all know that one cannot simply Whatsapp your dude a cute pic of yourself without looking like a complete dweeb. It has to be all mysterious and accidental and like “by the way, look at what you married, you’re welcome.”
Anyways, so that’s my completely unnecessary wifey drama for the day. What’s yours?
Clip note: People have been asking me why he wanted to “teach me a lesson”. Well, I accidentally unfollowed him first and then re-followed him. But The Gram does not forget. And so lessons had to be learnt. Oh Internet, what a complicated web you weave.
Clip note of a clip note: Before you say “Oh my gosh, this woman seriously wrote a blog post about her husband not following her on Instagram.” Yes, Margaret. Yes I did. And you just read the entire thing. Surprise!