My husband provides me with some of the best blog topics. Most times, without even meaning to.
Case in point; a conversation we had recently when he came down with the deadly Man Flu (see my previous blog). He’d just walked into the family room after taking a nap, and it went something like this…
Me (looking up from my book): Have a nice nap?
Him (shoulders up around his ears, arms crossed tight against his chest): I didn’t sleep
Me (one eyebrow lifts): That’s funny because you were sawing some serious logs when I walked in there.
Him (straightening his spine): I don’t snore (like I’d just accused him of torturing kittens or something)
Me: It’s cool. You only snore when you’re congested, or lay weird
Him (under his breath, as he sits in his chair): I don’t snore
No matter how many times I videotape the man snoring, he refuses to believe me. Says that’s not him making that noise. Like I’m some sort of master iPhone audio-mixer. Please! I’m lucky if I can remember how to turn my new phone off!
I actually consider myself extremely lucky, because he rarely ever snores. And when he does, I can usually get him to stop by simply setting my hand on his shoulder. No, I don't smack him and yell at him to quit snoring. After all, it's not his fault. But mostly, because I'm not altogether confident that I don't snore, and I would not like it if he did that to me!
It’s like his selective hearing. Oh, it’s a thing, people!
I can be sitting at the opposite end of the couch from him and ask him something, and he can’t hear me. But, he can sure as heck hear me slide my credit card out of my wallet from the other side of the dang house! Anytime I suggest he get a hearing aide, he just looks at me and says, “What?” Apparently, my husband also thinks he’s quite the comedian.
And then there’s the laundry. Why, after I spend eleventy-million hours folding clothes, does he think it’s a wise idea to leave them in the basket and just take what he needs as he goes? Does the man have a death wish or something?
He knows I’m a bit…okay…a lot particular about the laundry. Thanks, mom, for that. I won’t
let him go near it. Especially after that time he said, “There are only two loads—lights and darks.”
When I heard that, I got a bit lightheaded and had to sit down for a minute to collect myself. Two loads? Is he kidding me? What is he—an animal!?
Looking back on it, I’m certain he said it knowing it would guarantee he’d never be tasked with doing laundry as long as we were married. And he was right…and I’m just fine with that.
Or, like when he’ll say, “Why don’t you drive?”, then spends the entire time “helping” me. Here are some examples:
Him (pointing ahead): You see that guy has his turn signal on, right?
Me: (already regretting driving)
Him (body tense, hands gripping the dash): Brake lights! Brake lights!
Me: I see ‘em (the car is a hundred feet in front of us, and we’re going maybe fifteen MPH)
Him: Stop sign coming up
Me: Yyyyyep, I’m aware (only driven this road for twenty years)
Him: Why are you speeding?
Me: (doesn’t answer, because I probably am speeding to get to wherever we’re going faster)
Him: Did you look before you changed lanes?
Me: Do you want to drive?
Him: No, you’re doin’ good.
Don't even get me started about what he's like when we ride our motorcycles!
And, what is it with not being able to find anything?
Him (standing with the fridge door open, looking inside): We're out of jelly.
Me: It's on the bottom shelf, on the right door.
Him (looks down in general direction of the door): It's not there
Me: It's there
Him (gives a quick glance without bending down): Nope, we're out.
Me (sighs, gets up, grabs jelly off the bottom shelf of the right door, hands it to him)
Him (mumbling): That wasn't there a second ago.
He was an officer in the United States Coast Guard who was taught to navigate a ship in the middle of the ocean, in the dark of night, using nothing but a sextant and the stars. But he can't find a jar of jelly in the refrigerator? Seriously?
No wonder my eye-roll muscles are so well-developed.
Now, anytime he says he can't find something, I ask him if he looked behind the jelly.
Obviously, I have fun sharing little sneak-peeks into my marriage…among other aspects of my life. Fortunately for me, I’m married to someone who is super-confident, self-assured, and who knows I love him more than I like doing laundry. All I can hope is that he never decides to write his own blog. If that day comes, we may have to change the rules a bit.
