My husband is on the verge of retiring at which time our marriage will be on the verge of expiring. Having him home all day, every day just isn’t gonna work. Since I only work part time, the 16 hours a week I am away from home wont be enough to restore my sanity. He recently started taking a day or so off each week just to see how it feels. He explains it is a big deal for a man to retire. (He should only know how hard it is on the woman.)
The first week it was kinda fun to have him home. I made him toast and eggs while he made the coffee. As we ate breakfast together...I read the paper while he watched the news. I did the dishes while he took out the recycling. A real Ozzie and Harriet moment. Week two…not so good. I did the dishes while he watched TV. I folded laundry while he napped. I vacuumed while he snacked. A real Archie Bunker moment. But by the third week I told him that if I saw him so much as sit down while I was washing, dusting or folding something I would have him killed. To his credit he did try. He waited til I was in the bathroom to sneak a snack. He waited til I was on the phone to sneak in a nap. With all this sneaking he figured it was easier to just go to work. Not as stressful.
We tried to figure out what to do with all our new found time together. I opted for making sure his life insurance policies were all in order while he suggested we could travel across the country in an RV. He suggested an RV! A recreational vehicle. The man has no recreation unless it is changing someone’s oil. I imagined myself trapped in one of those one room on wheels and thought of the endless hours of driving down some rural roadway as we discussed, ummm while we talked about the….errrr….yeah my point exactly. What the hell would we talk about as we motored across state after state.? And where would we be heading anyway? Graceland? Dollywood? I thought perhaps traveling abroad. He made some sexist joke…a broad…ha ha get it…(I hate him!) and it was dropped. And for that, I got out my pad and made him a list of things that he could do around the house. Things he started and never finished.
The barbeque ignitor. He ordered the part, picked up the part, and examined the part….that’s as far as it got. Three years that part is in the junk draw waiting to be an ignitor.
Clean out the shed. We have two. One was here when we bought the house and he immediately filled it with crap. At best the first foot in was accessible. So for a Father’s Day oh so many years ago the kids chipped in and bought him a shed to go with his Carvel Fudgie the Whale cake. He transferred the ‘old shed shit’ into the new shed making it ‘new shed shit.’ Several years later we bought another shed, for the bikes, lawn mower etc. It was a huge shed that cost way to much but I foolishly thought that the ‘new shed with the old shit’ was coming down when the new kid in town was erected. Wrong. He just filled it up with more crap. So we have two sheds that are totally useless as far as storage goes. I have no idea what is even in those sheds….but if my husband goes missing….well don’t look in the sheds!
Change the outlets. I am married to an electrician that from all accounts is a very good one. I wouldn’t know however since every outlet in my house is from 1970 when the house was built. To plug in my vacuum I have to use the outlet attached to the overhead fixture in the bathroom. Of course that outlet only works when the light is on. And when that light is on, the vent fan is on. Between the vacuum and the vent fan noise you could lose your mind. To plug in my cell phone charger I have to unplug either the microwave or the radio. If I unplug the radio I lose all my pre-selected stations, if I unplug the microwave the clock is never right. So even though my cell phone now works I spend countless hours re-programming and/or resetting an appliance that has no business being friggin' unplugged in the first place. So more times than I care to recall, I have charged my cell phone while I am shit….um, peeing. When Christmas rolls around it becomes a nightmare of extension cords and twinkie lights. Fa la friggin’ la!
Throw out some papers. My husband has piles of papers everywhere. He thinks they are orderly because he hides them behind things. The windowsill in the kitchen has a foot deep worth of papers he thinks is hidden by a tiny 5 x 7 frame of my grandson. The decorative keyholder (cleverly disguised as a…key) is where he displays his collection of….rubbish. Theatre ticket stubs, motor oil coupons, faded receipts and anything that he can stuff between it and the wall. We have two file cabinets and one closet shelf that he also has stuffed with statements, directions, manuels and anything that can‘t fit behind the keyholder or my grandson. I have a paper shredder and an fervent need for confetti.
Throw out some papers. My husband has piles of papers everywhere. He thinks they are orderly because he hides them behind things. The windowsill in the kitchen has a foot deep worth of papers he thinks is hidden by a tiny 5 x 7 frame of my grandson. The decorative keyholder (cleverly disguised as a…key) is where he displays his collection of….rubbish. Theatre ticket stubs, motor oil coupons, faded receipts and anything that he can stuff between it and the wall. We have two file cabinets and one closet shelf that he also has stuffed with statements, directions, manuels and anything that can‘t fit behind the keyholder or my grandson. I have a paper shredder and an fervent need for confetti.
As I proceeded with my list, I looked up to see that my husband’s eyes were welling up. I felt bad for him, realizing that it was time to retire. As he walked towards the door and I asked him where he was going, he smiled broader than I have seen in a while and said…”work, I don’t have the strength to retire”. I stuck the list behind the keyholder!
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