7/9/09

Opposites attract, but they will get mad about it

Disclaimer: The following post was started on Tuesday. I saved it to work on later when I read this blog post by Sara. I commented that a military wife has it harder and I shouldn't be complaining about my husband. Sara responded back that I should just do it, and I think she mentioned she was nosey.

I realize that there are wives that have got it harder than I do. And I shouldn't complain about anything. But, I wouldn't be human if I didn't get aggravated from time to time, right?

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Warning: The following may not be appropriate for all audiences. This blog post is uncut and will be posted in its entirety. Parental discretion is advised.

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I love my husband. I really, really do.

(There's a bold opening statement.)

He is everything that I am not. He gets my sense of humor. We can talk without talking.

However, (that's a fancy but)

I am wondering when he lost his sense of sight and hearing.

Ironically, he hears me when I say:
-"Supper is ready."
-"I would like to go to Home Depot/Goodwill/anywhere."
-"I would like to *wink-wink*"

In additon to that, he can see:
-An elderberry bush fourteen miles away.
-A garage sale sign on the opposite side of the road facing the wrong way and still know where it leads to.
-If the floor/picture/ground is level without getting out any tools.

It just amazes me that with his eye for detail (when it suits him) that he'd be able to see his socks laying (lying?) on the floor, the trash is full, the recycling needs taken in, that the tissue he threw in the trash missed, that the dog is whining to go out, that the sink has no dishes because the dishwasher has been unloaded, the hanger he knocked on the floor (so not seeing AND hearing on that one)...


The list goes on and on.

Ribeye steaks were on sale last week. Like an all time low. So, he bought some, but we had ZERO room in the freezer. He asked me to reorganize it. ME. I am not the one that shoved everything in the free world into it.

Sidenote: This is the garage freezer that holds the overflow.

I go out to reorganize, except I can't because the recycling is overflowing. That had to be reorganized first. It's Darrin's job to take it out, so I think he was just sticking it wherever because the bins WERE STACKED UP inside of each other.

Grumble.

Like I told Big Daddy later in the evening, I am grateful for all the meats. We are able to get them super cheap and it takes tons off the food bill, but there has to be a limit. We have more than we'll be able to eat, I am sure. But, he'll bring home something, open the door and just shove it in willy-nilly.

If you are new here, I don't do willy-nilly.

Several things fell out and nearly hit my foot. He's lucky I wasn't hit.

I had to throw some things away. I didn't even know some of it was in there. It was that bad. But I got it done. And threatened bodily harm should he mess with it from this point forward.

Today, I am going to tackle the garage. It is super crowded out there right now because he brought a lot of his weenie wagon stuff home. But as big as our garage is, I found it a bit ridiculous that I had to move a shelf, slide by, move it back, climb over a box, move an empty tote, get the ladder off my carpet cleaner, move two clothing racks, open the big door, walk around to the side door with the cleaner, close the door to get in, just to clean the living room carpet.

He is a shover of crap. I am not. He is a procrastinator. I mostly am not. His procrastination is what causes him to be a shover, but then it causes more work later.

It's driving me crazy. If he was a horder on top of it, we'd have a serious problem.

This has been an ongoing bone of contention for ten plus years. Those who know me from the AOL days may remember our move from the country.

How can a person that needs order live with a person that could care less? Who has to be the one to accept it? I refuse to become a slave and do everything. (It's close to that now.)

I just don't want the boys to grow up and think they can drop their crap wherever and their wives will take care of it.

I am all about equal opportunity here.

3 comments:

Amy said...

My kids (and the hub) drop their crap every where. One time I left some dirty socks in the middle of the floor to see if anyone would pick them up. Cue the SpongeBob narrarator ..."One month later...."

Bridgett said...

I'll be honest here...I think it's a man thing. I really do. If I didn't keep bugging Doug about his dirty clothes, he'd never get his clothes washed. He just piles them up beside the bed and expects the laundry fairy to get them in the wash, I guess.

Thankfully, Doug is pretty sensible about buying groceries only if we have the space for them.

I wish I had a garage. Boy, do I ever. I'd have an extra fridge and another freezer!

XOXO

Sara said...

That would drive me insane! I am so glad I am the shopper of all things edible. I would have reorganized by throwing things at people without saying a word. It's my brand of passive aggressive!

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