That's me this weekend. Bob is taking off for a golf weekend with a buddy over to Eastern Washington and he decided to take the RV. He leaves this afternoon, and man, it's not a second too soon. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but he's driving me freaking crazy and I'm ready to tear my hair out.
Last night he was busily getting the RV packed up and ready to go. This is a nightmare for me.
Keys:
Bob: Where are the keys?
Me: (*what keys? pickup? trailblazer? Mercedes? house?*) : What keys?
Bob: *gives me the well-duh look* The trailer keys.
Me: How am I supposed to read your mind? Don't you think you could use an adjective once in a while?
Money:
Bob: I need some cash.
Me: (*so? go get some. It's 8:00 pm and I'm not going to drive over to the cash machine in the dark*): Oh, really?
Bob: Why didn't you get me some cash? You knew I was leaving town.
Me: (*I don't read minds*) : If you knew you needed cash you should have asked me yesterday.
Bob: I thought you would have figured it out.
Me: (*can I smack him now?*) I don't read minds.
Towels:
Bob: Where are the towels?
Me: (*we have lived in this house since 1990 and you don't know where the towels are?*) In the closet.
Bob: No, I mean in the RV.
Me: Oh, they're in the RV's bathroom cupboard under the sink.
Bob: I could only find one.
Me: (*sigh, I know there are two there, but they are too low for him to see them. He hates to bend over that far. You can easily hide anything from him by putting it on the lowest shelf*) Well, grab one from the closet.
Bob: What closet?
Me: (*sigh*) The upstairs bathroom closet where we keep the towels for the last 15 years.
Clothes:
Bob: Remind me not to forget my clothes.
Me: (???? *you're on your own, buddy.*): Sure
Camping chairs:
Bob: Where are the camping chairs?
Me: (*that's not my job, and he put them away after last years July 4th picnic*): I have no clue.
Bob: Did you see where I put them?
Me: No.
Boy, I sound bitchy, don't I?
After he has finished packing and loading he comes in to sit on the couch and harrass me about the remote control... I have it and he doesn't. This is bad news for him.
So I have the remote for the whole weekend. And I can decide what I want to eat and when I want to eat it. But I'll miss him. I'll probably get freaked out by house creaking noises tonight. And I always have a hard time sleeping when he's gone.
I plan to read, go to a movie maybe, garden, and read some more. The weather is supposed to be lousy. Hope everyone has a nice three day weekend (Canada had one last weekend, right?)
Thanks for listening to my tirade.
An avid reader of all types of romance - historical, paranormal, contemporary, romantic suspense - with some mystery and science fiction thrown in.
Friday, May 26, 2006
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8 comments:
You don't sound bitchy at all--eerily like me when my husband can't find his keys, his iPOD, his umbrella, his freaking head...have a good weekend.
Oh sweety, 15 years and that is as bitchy as it gets? ;)
All my answers have become 'I don't know'. All Bob's questions start 'Have we...'.
Bob: Have we done the laundry?
Me: I don't know, have we?
Bob: Have we called the hydro company to tell them we're moving?
Me: Actually, I know which part of the 'we' he is talking about here so I answer no.
I'd sure love to know when I became royal ;)
When things get really bad (too many questions without answers) Bob or I will yell for our butler James - the minute we see him, he's fired and we've been looking for him for years now ;)
CindyS
Megan: Inside my head I sounded bitchy but I was trying to control my outside voice. There was one notorious incident when he was looking for something in the refrigerator. It was sitting on the shelf in front at EYE LEVEL and he couldn't see it.
Cindy: We have been in this house for 15 years, but have been married a lot looooonger than that and at times like this I'm really feeling it. Oh, man, I get that 'we' shit all the time. 'What are WE having/making for dinner' the minute I get in the door from work. My standard answer: 'I don't know, what are you making me?' You'd think he'd learn. :)
Ah, much better ;)
I had no clue others got the 'we' crap. Never heard that phrasing with my parents.
CindyS
My parents have done the "we" thing for years. It's hilarious.
Any time my father takes one of his marathon fishing trips to Eastern Washington, he spends the whole previous day sorting fishing lures in the family room and creating Excel spreadsheet checklists. Then he harasses my mother to make sure she packs the proper food (he is hopeless in the kitchen).
Whatever they say about women finding men just like their fathers isn't true--my man is the one who'll open the back of the trunk and say, "Oops. Did we forget the tent?"
haha!! You are much more patient than I am if you were able to control your outside voice by the end of that.
We have the exact same conversations in my house every single day. My hubby actually called me at work the other day, practically shaking with anger because he'd looked and looked and couldn't find the big pot. "Oh you mean the pot you cooked sauce in last night and then put in the fridge for today?" Oh but he'd looked EVERYWHERE.
And if I could I'd staple that wallet directly to his ass. Several times just to hold. LOL
1. It's amazing that they function outside of the home. Are they dumb enough to ask stupid questions at work or do they store them up for us at home?
2. Our extra towels are literally stacked very decoratively next to the tub. If he doesn't have a clean dry towel waiting for him he has the nerve to ask... "Where are the towels?"
3. I swear my husband would have the remotes surgically attached if it were possible to function that way.
Kate: wow, a blogger from the Seattle area. Nice you could drop by. You father sounds like my BIL. Just plain crazy about fishing.
Valeen: Hehe, very funny, I love that story and so typical.
Tara: 1) Yes! 2) Why do they do this? 3) Yes! The first thing he does when he comes into the family room is try to harrass me into giving up the remote. Why are they all alike? I think I spoiled him rotten all these years and he's gotten out of the habit of using his head for 5 seconds.
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