Monday, January 21, 2008

She's Not Doing It; Make Her Do It

There are a few of you out there cleaning, finding 1980 photos, writing about past loves and former lives. Every single one of them has inspired me today. So much so, that I've surpassed on starting my workout until the end of this post.

Today, I've cried. I've Googled. I've ranted. I've caught up. I also began from the beginning, under inspiration, going through my old archives on my oldest of old blogs. When I found one of my favorite entries from when we lived in an apartment waaaaa-ay south of our now Longhorn City. . . . . and, while 4 out of my 7 readers have already read this, I thought to myself, "meh. whatevs." because it so sums up my weekend of cleaning. I just had to repost it. Send hate mail later. I'll get to it after my workout.

Enjoy. I'll get back to original posting soon. Promise.

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January 10, 2006

The Husband Shall Not Mess With the Laws-of-House-Keeping

I love my husband. I truly do. But let me just say that there are some issues that raise their ugly noggin’ now and again. Let me explain.

I believe that my messes always make sense. I don’t believe that my husband’s messes make any sense. Take, for example, tonight where the husband got a new toy. It came in a large cardboard box, which is fundamentally normal. In his excitement he proceeded to open the box in the kitchen on the stove while throwing the “paper stuffing” onto the kitchen floor. I know that some of you might think this is normal and some may not. This is; however, not the subject of concern for me. What, my friends, is the matter of question is the clean-up of thrown paper and now big empty box sitting on the stove.


So, I proceed in the most tactful, warm and adoring way that I know how, “Honey, that’s not a very good clean up.” Now, I need you to understand that the husband is a good man who holds one of the biggest hearts I know, but at this moment, I accepted that a demon possessed the love of my life. I was somehow precariously in imminent danger. Flashes of red flowed through his eyes while smoke emerged out of some facial orifices. To which he responded, “Baby. Don’t. Worry. I. Will. Clean. Up.”

Awesome.

Next thing I know, the big box has moved from the kitchen stove to the floor in our make-shift library, whilst the paper joined it in such a manner that it too ended up on the floor next to the box.

I bit my tongue. . .



. . . . but only for an hour. Some of you might think it a mistake to pursue the concentrated effort of normal clean up. Some of you may not. I took my chances and declared, “Honey, you said you’d clean up.” To which he answered, “I did. I put it there for the cats to play in.”

I'm sorry?

11 comments:

R.E.H. said...

This was funny ;)

Oh, I'm sorry if you don't see the humor in this... but I gotta side with your hubby here. Look at the cat playing in the box! Isn't that just the cutest?

Seriously... I have to side with him, 'cause I'd probably do the same ;)

Jay said...

He put it in there for the cats to play with? That's brilliant! Seriously, that is VERY creative. I don't think I could have come up with something that smart right there on the spur of the moment.

Ian said...

Reruns? Are you siding with the writer's guild or something?

If you can repeat your posts, I'm going to repeat my comments.

"Perfectly logical. Now it's not a mess. It's an adventure playground for cats."

Alli said...

OK. I just LOL'd at Ian's comments. Dude, you're freakin hilarious.

OK, now on to Jen. So, first of all. Why you cryin??? :( If it wasn't late, I'd call you. I'll call you tomorrow. mkay?

Second of all. MEN! Sheesh. OK, I can appreciate allowing cats to play in papers & boxes, but THEN clean it up after that!!!!

So, I side mostly with Jen on this one.

So, we're feeling each others' pain of the crazy cleaning, eh? UG! UG, I tell ya!

tt said...

The poor guys, it's in their gene's! I swear! Words to a man;
clean= move it to another location
eat= shovel it in as fast as possible
napkin= sleeve
It's an endless list. :)

Joel said...

I guess the sight of the wrapper makes it looks untidy. The paper should have been inside the box for the cats to play!

Rock Chef said...

And the problem is...?

These days that is called "recyling" and should be encouraged at all costs!

butterfly girl said...

I was taotally thinking half way through that my hubby would move it to the floor so the cats could play in it and then Viola! That's what your hubby did. Must be a man thing.

When hubby does something around here that is ugly/messy I put it in his closet or leave it where he'll trip over it repeatedly. It works.

Real Live Lesbian said...

As funny as that is...it would also make me crazy!

Thanks for the link to my post.

I'm glad you're working out...cuz my sorry ass didn't do diddly yesterday!

Jen said...

r.e.h.: it is funny. Really funny. I have to admit it made me laugh, but made for even a better blog story.

Here's the problem. That cute little cat playing in the box will play for hours and hours in that box until he gets bored with it and then pee's in it. PEE'S in it. Who's left to clean it up? Huh? Huh?

Jay: you, like the husband, have testosterone. I'm not sure I can save either of you. But, b/c I love my husband, I will agree it was brilliant thinking.

Ian: You're still a monkeychild.

Alli: it was a difficult day. You could have called - I accept phone calls up to 10 PM, anything after, someone better be deathly ill. However, I went to bed with movie in hand at 7:40. Asleep by 10. Tough day.

That's all I ask. Clean up when you're/cats are done.

tt: this advice would have been well served BEFORE marriage. And all so true. . . .

Joel: You could have a point there, but I'm still thinking an empty box in the middle of my floor is still messy. I'm just sayin'.

Rock chef: I'm all for recycling. Can't argue with that, but . . . but . . . oh, nevermind. ***sigh*** Off to find a womans comment . . .

RLL: I've got to lose this extra weight I've gained that seems to be clinging to my body for dear, dear life. Plus, I feel better when I do it.

I do love my husband, but he can drive me batsh*t crazy. For real.

Emmeline said...

hahahahaha. Well . . . at least the cats ARE playing in it . . . right?

Em