Man.
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.
Well. It's been a spell.
And a bit.
Life's brought many twists and turns since my last entry. 4 beloved people + my dearly beloved cat died all in the span of a few weeks. Haven't felt much like blogging since.
I have gone through just about every emotion in the last two months. At the moment I'm pulling out of feeling empty and hollow.
But the memory of each person still lingers......
All the things I wanted to say, express, share.....
Time just wasn't on our side.
Life is a strange arrangement; you never know what it's going to throw your way.
The bottom line is love. Throw in some humour and hopefully the zest for life keeps afloat amongst laughter and living.
I'm definitely telling my loved ones just how much I love them at each parting.
If I lose them or they lose me - I'll have no regrets.
On a more cheerful (shocking - to me, that is - erm, or was) note:
Having read
Dooce's latest blog of 9 Aug 2005 - well, I hafta say I was picking my chin up off the floor. I followed the link in her blog to Maggie's. Had a good belly laugh reading about their escapades in San Francisco. But of course, I had to click on the link in Maggie's blog. To a shop. Offering all sortsa - 'toys'.
Oh.
My.
Word.
Heather you are not (or weren't) the only vibra virgin left on the planet.
I mighta had rug burns on my chin if I'd been dragged into that shop.
After some seriously educational browsing, I'm seriously considering a g1vibe. Seems it comes with a free gift and free delivery - in discreet packaging.
What the hell; you only live once. Might as well live it to the fullest.
Why, when I want to lie in the sun - does it suddenly turn cold outside? GRRRRR.
Why are there always sucky movies on when I want to watch t.v.? GRRRRR.
There is so much random food in my fridge and my creativity is sagging. I fear there will be much wastage in the next few days.
How come when I go shopping - buy new clothes - do I get home and three to four items just don't work?!? And I can't be bothered to return them.
This brings me to my new sewing machine. I could alter stuff. If I could figure out how to use the damned thing!
Useless clothes; useless machine I can't figure out. What happened to user-friendly?!
Inertia has set in people. Curtains need making. Clothes need altering. Studies need doing. And yet I find myself sitting on this computer playing Bloomin' Gardens for hours on end.
There is nothing worse to me than a deluge of 'jobs' that need doing - and I can't seem to figure out where to start.
Sigh.
Right. Off to see if I can do battle with the new sewing machine.
I'm sitting in the living room checking some stuff on the internet.
My 13 year old daughter is watching a movie next to me.
Suddenly, I hear "You gave me crabs."
I sneak a look at her to gauge if she understood what it meant.
To my horror, she's laughing - in t.o.t.a.l. u.n.d.e.r.s.t.a.n.d.i.n.g.
I say, "You know what that means?"
She nods sagely and rolls her eyes at me as if it's soo yesterday's news.
In my attempt to be totally uber-cool, hip and not at all show an ounce of discomfort, I reply:
"Hey, that's not fair. I'm supposed to be the one who gets to tell you all that stuff!"
She laughs her head off.
(phew)
simultaneous internal head chatter:
Omg omg omg omg. Wonder what else she knows about.
Gasp.
I wrote a long blog today about political correctness and how making generalisations is a dangerous and stupid thing.
I was going to tie it into smoking. Eating bad foods; eating too much. And how one is vilified while another is ignored. But I can't be bothered to write it out beautifully.
To my mind - if God made it - it's safe to eat in moderation.
Take margarine, for example. It's an ion away from being plastic. Yet, it's touted as the healthy alternative to butter. We are only beginning to see the effects of processed and modified foods. It's not looking good. Butter is not unhealthy when taken in moderation, yet butter is getting a bad rap. I go crazy when I hear silly arguments or hear someone regurgitating silly sound bytes without having really probed the efficacy of said sound byte.
Don't whine that smokers drain the health care system whilst ignoring the fastest growing drain on the health care by obesity and other self indulgent practises.
People must retain choice. People must be considerate of others at the same time.
Lastly, not everyone reacts the same way to substances put into their bodies. In other words, those stupid shock warnings found on cigarette packets that say things like 'smoking kills' should read 'smoking can kill people who are particularly susceptible.' That's just one example - but all warnings should have that appendage because it's individual susceptibility that determines whether or not one develops lung cancer, or miscarries a baby or develops emphysema...
Bottom line:
Clean up your own garden before telling someone else how to tend theirs. And stop trying to legislate things like smoking...........and morality. Allowing this to happen is tantamount to giving up all right to choose.
Plus, your fat, perverted arse will be in the hot seat once you've totally vilified smokers and society moves onto its next target.
