I could hear my three children splashing and giggling as I walked down the hallway. I stopped at the bathroom doorway and poked my head inside. My exuberant 2 and 3 year olds were joyfully screeching, bouncing and smacking the water. Even though the bathroom was a mess and my husband looked like he had just emerged from a whirlpool, I thought, “all good, at least the kids are having fun and will be clean” so I went downstairs to make dinner for me and my husband.
A little while later, my husband brought the kids in with their warm, comfy pajamas on. When I went to give them a big kiss and hug, I noticed that they had Spaghetti O’s in their hair and something that smelled like syrup on their face. “Ughh, hon, why are the kids still so dirty?” He just shrugged and replied, “I gave them a bath…what’s wrong?” ”Hmm…..did you shampoo and condition in their hair?” As he was staring blankly back at me, it occurred to me that he probably didn’t use soap either. And, when I asked him, he just smiled and said, “You didn’t say I needed to use soap or shampoo.”
So, as my husband went to watch some basketball, I took the kids back to the bath……and, when I walked in, yup, floor flooded, towels strewn, soap, shampoo and conditioner nowhere to be found.
Word of advice……be very specific if you need anything done.
My three kids had been begging for a dog for years so this Christmas we finally caved in and decided to buy one. We spent three hours at a nearby shelter “interviewing” all the dogs. There were so many cute dogs, but there was one in particular that crawled into our hearts.
He was a beautiful, soft, golden retriever puppy. The kids were thrilled. We were told to wait until the next day so the dog could have his final checkup. I sent my husband to the shelter bright and early the next morning to pick up our new puppy.
When he got home, we all ran to the car to greet our new family member. To our huge surprise, we were not greeted by a golden retriever puppy but by some large animal that looked like a pit bull. You can imagine the hysteria from the kids. My husband didn’t understand….he said, “what do you mean, this is the same dog.”. We thought he was kidding but the look on his face was pure confusion.
When we not so calmly explained that this fierce looking pit bull type dog wasn’t even close to our cute little retriever puppy, he said he understood and rushed back to the shelter to pickup our dog. We ended up getting the right dog, but who confuses a mangy looking pit bull with a golden retriever puppy?
I was making melt in your mouth sugar cookies last night along with pork tenderloin and some vegetables. I walked in the kitchen to find my husband piling his plate full of delicious food. He had tenderloin, corn, macaroni and cheese and my cookie batter on his plate. I gave him a strange look and he kept piling on the food.
He said, “What’s wrong with the potatoes?”
“You’re mashed potatoes. What did you use in them?”
Silly man had thought my cookie dough batter was mashed potatoes and just thought that I had royally effed them up. The crazy part…he was still considering eating them and if I had not caught him with them on his plate he would have taken a huge bite of mashed sugar dough “potatoes”. I was rolling!!!
I woke up and went downstairs, expecting to see a Valentine’s Day card on the kitchen counter. Nothing. Flowers? Nope. Maybe a box of chocolates? Nada. Now, I know some of my friends aren’t that big on Valentine’s Day, but I am–and Pete, my husband, knows it—in fact, he actually proposed on February 14th because he knew how much the day means to me.
No Valentine? This was not good.
Hoping that he planned a secret surprise, I went ahead with my Valentine’s gift (breakfast in bed, a perfect card, and a gift certificate for an hour massage at his favorite spa). I brought everything upstairs, and he just smiled, kissed me and told me to wait. I still remember him saying, “It’s going to be great.”
We have two cars. On the lower left-hand corner of each windshield, they have registration stickers and inspection stickers–right next to the local police supporter stickers. This is the standard sticker situation for everyone in NY.
I readily admit that I am not a car person. I don’t call the cars by their rightful branded names–I refer to them as the blue car and the black car. Car maintenance is Fred’s “job”. He washes the cars (periodically), takes the cars in for an oil change (when the reminder light becomes difficult to ignore), and sometimes even monitors the stickers’ expiration dates.
It was early February. The new registration sticker for the blue car had arrived in the mail. It sat on the “outgoing” counter, unnoticed, along with grocery coupons and other stuff for the car. It was the third Saturday in February, before I gently nudged Fred, “Can you please put the new registration on the car?
We have three boys, and as you might imagine, the television is tuned to sports 24-7. My husband enjoys sports, but he is not really a sports nut. As the boys have grown, they have gotten even more interested in the rules of the game, and they follow the statistics of each and every player.
My husband has been able to “fake” his knowledge for the most part. However, last Sunday, during the football game, there were several calls by the ref that were questionable. The three boys started arguing to prove their respective points. I know my husband wanted to step in as the expert, but he was stumped!
It was then that I noticed him excusing himself to the bathroom with “The Female Fan Guide to Pro Football” tucked under his arm.
A few years ago my husband was out of town on business for our anniversary. He said he’d gotten something for me on his trip. He’d come back in town late so we went to lunch the next day. As we leave his office together, his assistant hands him a plastic bag. She was trying to be discreet but I saw it. When it’s time to exchange gifts, he pulls a card and gift out of the same bag his assistant handed him. I know the store where the gift was purchased. There isn’t a store where he was on trip. He didn’t buy anything on that trip! He had his assistant buy my gift and tried to pass it off as his handiwork.
As I walked into the front door of our house after getting home from work, Chris walked up to me and gave me a big hug. He gets home before I do usually.
“Hey Kara, how was your day,” he asked. “Busy,” I replied. “I’m glad I’m finally home so we can get everything taken care of for our barbecue tomorrow and have some time to relax.”
“Yeah, we can watch a chick flick or something. Well, you can watch one and I’ll sit with you and pretend that I’m watching while I’m really probably just going to fall asleep.” I laughed at him and playfully pushed him away.
“Did you remember to get my soap at the store,” Chris asked.
I looked at him with a look of shame and said, “Oh my goodness, I forgot all about going to the store! I am so sorry. I’ll go back and get it.” Chris smirked and said, “I thought you might forget. It’s okay. I’ll just use yours tonight and smell a little fruity tomorrow for the barbecue. It’s better than smelling bad!” We agreed to this and began the process of marinating our steaks for the next day.
When we woke up the next morning, Chris rolled over and sleepily said, “Your soap made my skin tingle when I used it, and now it feels weird.” I said, “It’s supposed to tingle. It’s exfoliating” as I chalked Chris’ statement up to the fact that he had never used girly soap before and thought nothing of it.