I think somewhere in my marriage vows my husband slipped in a line about me following him around for the rest of our days picking up after his ass.
I don't recall this line per say, but it must have been in there and my husband holds me to it.
I follow him around picking up dirty socks, dirty dishes and even dirty underwear...YES, dirty underwear...ewww.
Why it is so difficult to place the underwear IN the hamper is beyond me..it must be a Y chromosome thing.
Now I don't LOVE that I do this. I have tried to put my foot down several times and refused to pick up after him...but guess what...it doesn't faze him! Not in the least!
He will walk past those dirty ass underwear a HUNDRED times and NEVER pick them up.
He will even look right at them and leave them lay there. Now I'm sure he isn't trying to determine if they are his or not. I mean, it's just he and I in the house, and I quit wearing boxer briefs years ago.
No...I think what he is thinking is..."Why in the hell hasn't Tonya picked these up yet...Geez she's really slipping."
This irks me to no end. (yes, irks me? who says that?)
Anyway...last night was no different...EXCEPT, that it was....
Currently, we are out of town for work and renting an upstairs apartment. We have to share a bathroom with the apartment across the hall and although I HATE this I am trying to make the best of it.
Therefore, it's a MUST that we respect the space and keep it clean and free from our usual clutter. We've actually been doing pretty well with it...both us, and the guy across the hall. I appreciate this very much.
Well last night we hit a speed bump. Just a little one...but one I felt needed to be addressed.
When Joel got home from work yesterday he quickly showered and then we were off to run some errands.
When we returned, we put up some Christmas decorations my wonderful husband had gotten me and then straightened up the place.
As I went into the bathroom I noticed that Joel had left a T-shirt and a pair of underwear hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
I was going to leave them there...let him be embarrassed when the guy across the hall saw what he had done. That would have really taught him a lesson, right.
Well, I couldn't do that, so instead, I decided to grab them myself and continue the ritual of picking up after him. (it's just easier that way)
I walked into the room...dirty underwear in hand and said, "Ummmm...honey, you need to be more careful. You don't want our neighbor to have to deal with your dirty underwear hanging in the bathroom do you?"
Well of course I don't dear...that would be rude of me."
"Well I'm glad we got that cleared up. Now what do you want me to do with these?"
Well, I don't really care what you do with them. THOSE are not mine.
I stood there dumbfounded...what did he just say? What was he talking about? OF COURSE they were his...whose else could they have been?
WAIT A MINUTE.....
"These AREN'T yours? You're telling me that these dirty, mens underwear that are currently in my hand are NOT yours?"
That's what I'm telling you...NOT mine.
"OMG...OMG...AHHHHHHH! That means...."
Yep, THAT means you are standing there holding some strangers dirty underwear!
I run back to the bathroom...put them back on the door hanger...and wash my hands under scalding water!
When I finish and walk back into the room...my husband is laughing hysterically.
You know honey, I'm not a neanderthal. I wouldn't just leave my dirty underwear lying around like that.
SERIOUSLY...that's what he said....SERIOUSLY!