Friday, April 22, 2011
A few weeks back I did a tiny little post about my husband driving me mental. I didn't go into detail. I just made the statement and walked away. Then a few days later I talked about how he might drive me mental, but he also keeps me sane. Remember that?
Well let's go back to the driving me mental bit.
Why does he drive me mental? It's the little things. The little things that happen over and over and over again. The things you would think he would learn but just doesn't. Those little actions that drive me mental and actually drive him a little bit insane too. Those Homer Simpson moments of "D'oh" followed by "D'oh" and then a day later "D'oh" and then of course there's another "D'oh" ... D'oh, D'oh, D'oh,. D'oh ....
Yes, he drives me mental. I could tell you about the forever empty ice tray, or the uncapped toothpaste, or the repeated losing of the keys, or the leaving the oven on, or the wearing clothes inside out and back to front, or misplacing his clothes AS he's putting them on (?!?), or the putting left-overs in the fridge without plastic wrap or the crowbars in trees, or loading the car for holidays with everything he can find "just in case" we might need to use it rendering us packed to the rafters, or festering smelly rotten apple cores under the seat of the car, or beer caps around the house, or golf balls in washing machines and dog poo on shoes. I could talk about those things until the cows come home. But not today. Today I'm gonna tell you about leaving things on the roof of the car.
Leaving something on the roof of the car, and then driving off, happens. I've seen milkshakes, cameras, shopping bags sliding off vehicles as people head out of car parks. It happens. But most people learn from it and never use the roof as a shelf again. Not Husband. D'oh! It's costing us a lot of money.
Over the years Derek has lost the jacket to his Calvin Klein suit (that was the last time we spent the big bucks), his leather jacket (I even called the local radio station to see if anyone had spotted it on the side of the road), CDs, and his Blackberry. Let me pause there for a moment and talk about the Blackberry. I had a rare night out with a group of friends that night and he'd dropped me off at someone's house so I could catch a taxi with the crew. He came home without his phone and got a bit frantic as there was a big work project on. While I was out having a few drinks he was going quietly berserk at home. In the end he came to terms with the fact that he'd rested it on the roof of the car before he'd taken me out. It stormed that night. Poured with rain. But the next morning he got up as soon as daylight hit and walked our street. There it was. The Blackberry was up the street around the bend sitting in the gutter. It was in one piece but very wet. He took it home and dried it. And low and behold the bloody thing turned on. Who would have thunk it?! You'd think that Husband would have learned from this experience but sadly no. D'oh. He has since lost another one (or is it two?) Blackberry's in this fashion. Yesterday as he got ready for work he was again on the hunt for his phone. As things turned frantic we all ended up searching for the freakin' thing. Where did we find it? On the roof of the car ....
Yes it's true. My husband drives me mental. Little bit by little bit this very ordered person is going quietly insane.
As I start rocking back and forth on my chair remembering the cause of my insanity let me leave you with more roof of car stories. How about finding our mail scattered down the left hand side of the road in perfect intervals when I came home from a client one day signifying that husband had actually collected the mail that day but put it on the roof while his attention was diverted elsewhere. Oh, and there is the day I was driving my own car down the street on the school run and as we rounded the bend a bunch of comics started sliding down the front windscreen. As I stopped to collect them I found a trail of comics behind me scattered down the street.
Yep, my husband drives me mental. It's the little things. The little things that seem to go on forever ... and ever ... and ever ... with no end in sight.
Oh man he drives me mental.
But he also keeps me sane.