Open mouth insert foot

Yesterday I decided to be productive. Last year a friend of mine had come to visit bringing me a grocery bag filled with bulbs. I wanted to plant these flowers, I really did. Seeing as I am still learning to adjust to this whole country life thing and having been born and bred in large cities there are some things I just don't know. As much as I wanted to plant these flowers I had no clue as to which end was up on these little bulbs. Knowing that if I planted them upside down they would never grow and I would have just dug a mud hole for nothing. So, I didn't plant them. Apparently the bag at some point got knocked off of the porch. The other day my sweet, loving little boy came inside clutching the most precious little handful of flowers. "Look what I got for you mom!" He said. I was torn, the mother in me melted but the neighbor in me cringed. All I could think was that I knew those pretty little flowers didn't come from my yard, they had to have come from my anal retentive neighbor whose yard looks like a botanical garden because he has nothing better to do than groom it daily to make the rest of us look like crap. The man mows his yard twice a day with a friggin tractor, stop it. So I asked my little angel where it is he found his new treasure and he informed me they indeed came from my yard. When he showed me where they came from I was floored. My little bag of bulbs had bloomed. What does that mean to me? I now know which end is up.
So on to the true reason for this post. Now knowing which end is up on these bulbs I decide I am going to go ahead and plant them. I dig a large area surrounding my back deck, by myself I may add. I break up all that damn dirt with my shovel, smooth it out with a rake, dig careful little holes and plant my precious little flowers. By the end of the day my back is aching a bit from all of the hard work I did...By myself. My husband realizes that I don't feel like cooking dinner and offers to take us out, sounds good to me. While we are at dinner I am telling my husband about how this getting old shit is for the birds, my back is killing me. He then informs me that its only that my body isn't conditioned for that kind of physical labor and maybe I should work up to big projects rather than jumping in so my body wont hurt so badly.
"I planted a few friggin flowers I didn't dig a pool."
"You know what I mean, baby."
"Not really, right about now if I go with what I think your trying to say your about to wear your dinner."
"Baby, I didn't mean it bad. I was just saying, well, like when you started walking the dog everyday it made you really sore at first."
"Your about to walk home."
"Well, I walk a lot every day I'm conditioned to it." (laughing)
"You think I'm playing?"
"Honey, don't be that way. Your taking this all wrong." (he starts to say something else but I cut him off)
"There is absolutely nothing you can say to make this better aside from 'honey I'm an ass and don't know how you put up with me'. "
"I'm an ass and don't know how you put up with me."
His admission is the only thing that got him a ride home as I was still considering letting him walk. When we got in the bed to go to sleep he snuggled up to me and said, "It has occurred to me that you took what I said as a reflection on the physical shape you are in."
"You think?"
"Well, you took it wrong, you are looking great. You have lost so much weight and look so good. You have been sticking to a work out routine longer than I could even dream of trying. You eat right which we both know I cant do. What I meant was your back wasn't used to being hunched over all the time and in the future let me help you so that way your back doesn't hurt."
"Your still an ass."
"I know."
Then he kissed my shoulder and we went to sleep. I love him but sometimes he should really think before his gums start flapping.