Thanks for the Time Saver!

In an effort to save me time having to look for things, he took some gift card holders out of a bag and placed them up on a shelf hidden away. I spent half an hour this morning looking for the bag that I had just placed on the desk 2 days ago. I was just about to go buy more of the gift card holders since I need them the day after tomorrow.

Is Nothing Sacred?

I came home from a long day at work the other day to find that he'd not only re-organized all my stuff that I use for story time, but he managed to find enough time in his day to re-organize my desk. Went through all my private papers and stacked them up in a way that seemed better organized to him. I'll never find anything.

So You Want to Do Laundry?

How to do the laundry, Y-style:
Throw a mixture of clothes into the washer and don't worry about the colors because that's just an old wives' tale about colors bleeding. Don't check the pockets just because you might find a pen, some candy, a wallet, some money or even a cell phone in there. Use a lot of detergent to get those not very dirty clothes clean. Set it on the longest cycle - once again to get those not very dirty clothes clean. Then throw them in the dryer and use high heat because they dry faster. At that point either leave them in the dryer or throw them into a basket all jumbled up, because, what the heck, you IRON your clothes. Keep piling them into the basket. Pile as high as you can until they start falling over. Don't bring them upstairs because then you might remember that they have to be put away. Ah, complete. A job well done. Tell your friends and coworkers how hard you work at home, even doing the laundry. Wait for compliments.

Actually It's You Who Would Do That

This morning he emailed me to say that he'd called our youngest son's advisor at school about some comments a teacher made on his report card. He didn't tell me what the advisor said (which of course I DID want to know) but said that if he had misspelled the advisor's name in his email to me (which he did) for me not to correct him.
This is pretty funny coming from someone who always has to let me know if I ever make a mistake in anything that I say or write. It's like a compulsion with him - a need to not only be right, but to make sure that I KNOW that he's right.
I on the other hand, rarely tell him when he's made a mistake although I will admit that I do sometimes check on his facts. But it's enough for me to know that I'm right and I don't feel the need to tell him.

Why Don't You Ask Me?

Why doesn't he ask me why I don't put milk in the back right corner of the refrigerator (it freezes) instead of moving it back there after I move it away.
Why doesn't he ask me why I keep the coffee maker to the left of the outlet (so I can reach the switch for the garbage disposal) instead of moving the coffee maker back every time I move it.

Why Do You Assume I Don't Mean It?

When I set aside the everyday section of the newspaper so that I could do the crossword puzzle later, why did you put it in the recycling bin? Did you think I didn't really mean to save it? When you returned the roll of gift wrap to the basement that I had on the counter to wrap a gift that was sitting right there, did you think I was finished with it? When you threw out the washed aluminum cans I'd been saving for the story time craft project did you think I'd set them on the windowsill accidentally? Do you think I like the timer stuck to the wall if every time you put it up there I take it off? Why do you assume that I'm not doing these things on purpose?

Where's Yours? Where's Mine?

He wandered into the kitchen the other morning as I made scrambled eggs and cinnamon rolls for myself and the boys. He sniffed the rolls and asked, "where's mine?" I answered that his were sitting right next to the last meal he made for me. Oh wait! That's right! He's never made anything for me. Meal after meal, month after month, year after year... I've made meals for the two of us, then for all of us, but never just for myself. He honestly thinks that if he makes a meal for just himself he's somehow doing ME a favor. He's never once offered to get me something when he gets something for himself, like a snack or dessert. He's never even made me a cup of coffee. Heck, he wouldn't even know what I put IN my coffee.