Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
And then - you come home.
Now, I think I may have mentioned that I'm a bit neurotic about cleaning and organization. I've been trying to tone it down a bit, but hey - it's a work in progress. For instance, usually, when I would go away for a weekend (or longer), I would drive myself insane trying to make the house "perfect" before I left. This meant, that in addition to packing everything we needed for the trip, I would also have to do *all* of the laundry, dishes, mop the floors, clean the bathrooms, vacuum... you get the idea. The basic purpose was to allow me to come home to a clean house and not have to jump back into the grind. The new "toned down" version skipped the whole floor mopping thing, didn't worry too much about putting all toys, etc away. I still did all of the laundry (hey - I needed clothes to pack anyway!) and made sure that all of the dirty dishes were in the dishwasher, which I ran as I walked out the door.
What I forgot to factor in, was that my husband has this need to wallow around in his own filth.
We left Friday - think he emptied the dishwasher? NO.
Did he take care of the pile of dishes he created while I was gone? NO.
Did he make sure to leave our bedroom neat, make the bed or even hang up his damned wet towel?!?!?! NO!
Let me tell you what he *DID* do.
First, he made sure that I would be unable to trace the mystery stench in the kitchen.
Second, he emptied out the coffee pot and grounds into my WHITE ENAMEL SINK and on top of the assorted dishes he stacked 10 stories high in there. He didn't rinse it - even a bit - and I now have a *brown-streaked* enamel sink, despite asking him about a million times to PLEASE make sure he rinses the sink after he makes coffee. He always says, "I did rinse it," and looks astonished when I point out the stray coffee beans and brown puddles hiding around the plates he ignores. *&%#%@^ jerk! Does he think we have stock in Comet cleanser?!?!?!?! Let's not forget how much it hurts my bad wrist to scrub that shit out over and over and over...
[Note to self: Call the damned wrist specialist tomorrow!]
Third, ever crawl into bed and find a cold, damp yuck from a wet towel that was left behind?
Fourth - and I almost missed this one. Luckily, my ridiculous addiction to carbonated beverages helped me find this one. There is some disgusting, sticky substance on my kitchen floor that is virtually undetectable to the naked eye. Bare feet however...
GRRRRRR!!!
And to think that I went out of my way to make sure he had plenty of convenience food and homemade frozen meals.
I can't wait until he goes on his business trip at the end of the month. I feel a sudden need to pull another secret covert Goodwill mission. And his pile o'junk is ripe for the picking.
Now, I think I may have mentioned that I'm a bit neurotic about cleaning and organization. I've been trying to tone it down a bit, but hey - it's a work in progress. For instance, usually, when I would go away for a weekend (or longer), I would drive myself insane trying to make the house "perfect" before I left. This meant, that in addition to packing everything we needed for the trip, I would also have to do *all* of the laundry, dishes, mop the floors, clean the bathrooms, vacuum... you get the idea. The basic purpose was to allow me to come home to a clean house and not have to jump back into the grind. The new "toned down" version skipped the whole floor mopping thing, didn't worry too much about putting all toys, etc away. I still did all of the laundry (hey - I needed clothes to pack anyway!) and made sure that all of the dirty dishes were in the dishwasher, which I ran as I walked out the door.
What I forgot to factor in, was that my husband has this need to wallow around in his own filth.
We left Friday - think he emptied the dishwasher? NO.
Did he take care of the pile of dishes he created while I was gone? NO.
Did he make sure to leave our bedroom neat, make the bed or even hang up his damned wet towel?!?!?! NO!
Let me tell you what he *DID* do.
First, he made sure that I would be unable to trace the mystery stench in the kitchen.
Second, he emptied out the coffee pot and grounds into my WHITE ENAMEL SINK and on top of the assorted dishes he stacked 10 stories high in there. He didn't rinse it - even a bit - and I now have a *brown-streaked* enamel sink, despite asking him about a million times to PLEASE make sure he rinses the sink after he makes coffee. He always says, "I did rinse it," and looks astonished when I point out the stray coffee beans and brown puddles hiding around the plates he ignores. *&%#%@^ jerk! Does he think we have stock in Comet cleanser?!?!?!?! Let's not forget how much it hurts my bad wrist to scrub that shit out over and over and over...
[Note to self: Call the damned wrist specialist tomorrow!]
Third, ever crawl into bed and find a cold, damp yuck from a wet towel that was left behind?
Fourth - and I almost missed this one. Luckily, my ridiculous addiction to carbonated beverages helped me find this one. There is some disgusting, sticky substance on my kitchen floor that is virtually undetectable to the naked eye. Bare feet however...
GRRRRRR!!!
And to think that I went out of my way to make sure he had plenty of convenience food and homemade frozen meals.
I can't wait until he goes on his business trip at the end of the month. I feel a sudden need to pull another secret covert Goodwill mission. And his pile o'junk is ripe for the picking.
posted by SuperMomIsDead | 12:01 AM
2 Comments:
I have to agree with Nicole. My husband is exactly the same way. He recently watched my son pee on the guest bed and then took off some of the sheets and promptly hid them in the corner and closed the door. Who does this? His garage sale deer head wearing a fez is so going to Goodwill.
For the last few days, I've been walking about the house and backyard, making a mental list of all the JUNK I'm going to toss. I think he suspects something, as it's impossible to keep that faint smile off my face as I dream of tossing his nasty rolled up carpet and disgusting green sofa.
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