Actually I should say "Men".
I hand my husband a bag of birthday presents (for our son's upcoming birthday) asking him to 'hide' them until nearer the Big Day.
No Problemo, Right? Well, uhm, one would think so.
Fast Forward.
The Big Day approaches and I duly ask him to get the presents out so I can wrap them.
"Hmmmm. Let's see. Where did I hide them?"
Screeeeeeeeech.
"Say wha?!"
So. An all-day-long-hunt ensues for my husband to find the birthday presents hiding place.
In the meantime, I carried on with all the normal stuff and a few extras. The day was comprised of Cooking, Cleaning, Laundry, More Cooking, Washing Dishes. Breaking up spats between kids. Sweeping, mopping, painting walls and fences. Did I mention Washing Dishes? Not all in that order of course. While worrying where the HELL all the presents had been stashed and if he would find them before bedtime. I am flucking Wonder Woman I tell you. I REALLY was doing all that - that day.
Fast Forward to 10p.m.
"Darling, have you managed to find the presents? I'd like to wrap them tonight."
"Hmmmmm. Let's see. {shaking head} I thought I put them in our bedroom. But, nope, they weren't there. I looked in the cupboard in the spare bedroom. Nope. Not there either. Climbed up in the attic three times. Not there either. Went out to the barn. Nope.........etc. {ad nauseum}."
{patience running v.e.r.y. thin and trying not to scream at him}
{slow. deep. breath. exhale slowly with a sweet smile on my face}
"Okay. Please. Think. Where did you go when I handed them to you a few days ago? And please spare me the running commentary on all the places you have looked and KEEP GOING BACK TO IN SOME INSANE HOPE THAT THE PRESENTS WILL MAGICALLY SHOW UP WHERE YOU'VE ALREADY LOOKED!"
{husband duly scratches head - very sheepish looking now}
"Uhm, I can't remember. But, I haven't lost them!!"
"Okay. {laughing hysterically inside at his self-deception that he hasn't lost them} Remember, you were standing at the bottom of the stairs when I handed you the bag? "
Husband nods.
"Well. WHERE did you go from there? Try to picture it in your mind - retrace your steps."
{Husband shakes head.}
"Nope. Nothing. I can't remember."
{me trying to decide if I'm going to hold all this in and blow a carotid artery or just start the bitch-nag-marathon-from-hell}
"Listen my darling. It's now 10 past 10p.m. I've cooked three meals today, in addition to a lovely birthday cake. The cards are all signed and ready. The wrapping paper, scissors, tape, and ribbons are all set to go. But we've got no presents. It's late. I'm tired. Now THINK. WHERE could you have possibly put them? And please STOP looking in the SAME places you've looked 18 times already. Look somewhere you haven't looked already. There's a novel idea, dontcha think?"
Husband skulks away with shame while telling me I could be alittle more patient with him.
Comes back 15 minutes later.
Sheepish look on his face. Of course, with presents in hand. I won't bother mentioning where they were stored. But suffice it to say, they were stored somewhere VERY easy to remember. Had he thought to tell me, I would have damn well remembered.
When will I ever learn to REMEMBER to ASK HIM WHERE HE STORES THE DAMN PRESENTS EACH TIME? It's never in the same place so I really must ask him.
Sigh.
Because this not only would save me the hassle of stress at-the-last-minute which has become SO predictable. But it would leave him with his fragile male ego fully intact.
What did I say to him when he proudly produced the presents with a look of complete victory on his face at such a late hour, in much the same manner as our cat produces bloodied prey as a loving gesture on my lovely carpet?
Why, I smiled sweetly of course; duly kissed him warmly on his cheek and thanked him for hiding them so well.
But still. I REALLY need to get my shite together and REMEMBER to ask him where the hiding place is next time.
We Are, After. All. A. Team.
