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can anyone relate?
This is all in the day's conversation in our household:
DH: Have you seen the star tip screwdriver set?
Me: Nope. Don't even know what that is.
DH: I left it around here just last week. You probably moved it when you were cleaning.
Me: Well, I only would have put it in the basement.
DH: Well, it's not in the right spot. You do things so quick around here that I don't even get a chance to put things away where they go.
Me: Let me help you. Tell me what it looks like, what project you were using it for last and we can back track.
DH: I was using it here at the printer. Remember, I had to take it apart to clean up the accident your cat had on it.
Me: Dusty?
DH: Yeah. You remember.
Me: Dusty died the beginning of June.
DH: Well, maybe it was a bit longer than last week that I was working in that project.
So off we go to buy new tools, yet again. I just put away a screwdriver that was sitting in the living room for a week. I wonder how long it will be before he comes looking for it again?
Re: can anyone relate?
Our kitchen couter closest to the garage door (there's an entrance from the garage into the kitchen) is a collecting place for things that are supposed to get put away in the garage but never seem to make it there. For weeks we had sitting there a wire coat hanger (for undetermined future use), a tape measure, and the heatproof gloves from when DH fried the Thanksgiving turkey. I finally got him to take care of those before our guests arrived on Christmas Eve and now the space is occupied by the four rolls of duct tape that DH got for Christmas! Any guesses how long that will sit?
I think our DHs must share the same clutter non-acknowledging gene.
My DH conveniently goes back and forth between his complaint that I always move his stuff when I clean and his complaint that I don't ever clean.
When something of his goes "missing" it's somehow my fault. He was furious with me for throwing away the empty packaging for some dumb electronic device (I think it was a car adapter for one of his many gadgets) after it sat on the kitchen counter for literally months. Apparently, the thing that used to be in it didn't work right, but he couldn't ever seem to find both the package AND the adapter at the same time to be able to return it. Of course, it was my fault for throwing away the TRASH?
My Wedding Bio! Not updated in a LONG time!
my DH cannot find anything but his tools. Seriously today he was standing in front of the fridge, looking for coffee creamer. He asks- kristy where is the creamer. I am standing in the hall and can see it clearly in the fridge. I say to him "Third shelf on the door- I can see it from here" and he still couldn't find it.
Same thing goes with his clothes- he seems to think I know where his belt is, his jeans, etc. My new response (which drives him crazy) is I don't know I do not wear it.
Somehow the tools magically come UP from the garage, but never go back DOWN to the garage.
DH loses everything this way and I am always blamed for "moving stuff". My favorite is when his clothes are on the floor and I put them in the laundry basket only to be told they weren't dirty. So apparently, the middle of the bedroom floor is also considered part of the dresser, did you know that?
PS. I liked the week ago/ before the cat died in June. Also, was it really your cat or both of yours?
I love hearing everyone else's stories! The man/woman dynamic is so entertaining!
So...about the cat. It was our cat, until he lost control of his bowels. Then he miraculously turned into 'my' cat. As in "Your cat had an accident in the living room."
Overall, DH is another husband who knows where his tools are, but loses everything else, then asks me 'How Come WE Always Lose Stuff??' And gets mad when I don't jump up to help him find something, or he will ask where something is and I will say "I don't know" without stopping to think about it, only to follow up with a very specific place to look in a few seconds.
Like today, DH started wearing contacts again so he can be more comfortable in his safety glasses. He was packing to leave for PA again this morning and needed a small bottle of solution to carry on the plane.
I said that we had one, but that I was pretty sure it was over the 3 point whatever ounces that you can carry on, and that it is expired, because I had it at work at head start before I was laid off and I noticed a year before that that it was expired. I only used it once at work, but kept it there in case.
So he insisted that we dig it out to check how many ounces it was. I could tell him exactly where it was, in a box of teaching stuff from head start that I had not opened since Sept '09, buried in the closet.
He went in the packed closet and dug it out, and said 'oh, it's over the ounce limit, I'll get [co-worker] to stop at Rite Aid on the way out of town to get a smaller one' and the closet is a bigger mess, because half the teaching box is unpacked. DOH!
Huh. We must have the same dresser.
Did you get it at IKEA? I think we have the same one, too.
haha we have that dresser too!
What I can relate to is the poor time referencing! I think the only thing DH can say is " last week." Everything is last week.
This post cracked me up
No, we secretly put it back in there when they weren't looking :P
As a cat mother, myself, I am sorry about your loss, but also had to giggle at that post. I'm embarrassed to say that I am generally the one in our marriage that loses things...I got lucky and married a neat-freak. Also, since we just rent the first floor of a house right now, we don't really have a basement where we regularly store stuff, so unless it's been thrown out, it's somewhere in one of the 5 rooms.
An example of my husband: my parents are visiting us this week - we just returned from staying with them in NY and they arrived about 20 minutes after us (poor timing for a visit), so our apartment was a disaster, but I had to go to work. At dinner later last night, my father told me how he did not sit down; spent the entire time I was at work cleaning, putting things away and setting up the guest room for them - I shouldn't feel guilty for finding this rare breed of husband, should I?