The Suave Spouse

My husband is hilarious.  He's only directly asked me to clean the house once in ten years.  He's never asked for a certain food for dinner.  He's never pressured me to do laundry.  He's never done any of that; I guess that's why the other day shocked me so much.

We talked about Ticket Tom.  He laughed, remembering the details Ger-tay had told him about the yard sale.  We sat smiling, holding each other, when suddenly my husband got a great idea.  He looked like Loki, planning a master heist.  His forehead turned calculating and his eyes darted about the room.
(Check out Siv if you like Norse Mythology; she's AMAZING! LOKI THE TRICKSTER)

 So, anyway, my husband who's such a carefree man, decided to play hardball.

Shear Luck Enterprises

On a side note, this picture is so my luck.  My husband and I posed, then for some crazy reason we actually started playing our instruments.  I got really into it.  A wind stirred, probably from the power of the music and the shade blocker . . . well, it just blew over on us.  I'd barely opened my eyes here.

The photographer (who's so amazing she'll even lie in dirt just to get the right shot) took the picture as the shade blocker fell on us.  It was hilarious!  I thought I'd just gone out for some pictures, I didn't know I'd get to have an adventure too!  Anyway, this picture shows us both stopping mid-song so we can catch the thing. 

If you'd like to hear our music, go here: Our Music: The Fifth Side



Back to the point . . . Cade looked around like Loki planning a heist.  One eyebrow raised, practically defying the other one.  "You know," he said.  "I'm not pointing any fingers here, or saying something about anyone, but if I was home and I had four kids that look very similar to ours.  If I was here ALL day, and had some free time.  I think I might consider going through the closets and getting rid of some junk."

"Hypothetically?"

"Yeah, just if I was . . . someone."

"Who looked like me?"

"Exactly."

"Well . . . if I was you.  And I had some free time, I might just throw stuff away so I could help my charming wife."

"Really?" he asked, obviously unaware of how busy a mom's day can be.

He left to work and yesterday I decided I'd play nice and do what he said.  I put Thomas the Tank Engine on for The Zombie Elf.  I brought Doctor Jones with me and we opened the front closet.  Everything went great--for the first two seconds.  I found one pair of shoes to get rid of.  I smiled and sang.  Nesting had never felt so good.  I didn't have to suffer from pregnancy and I could still nest quite nicely!  I'd only found two pairs of shoes to give away, when Doctor Jones started choking.

She sat right next to me.  She wore a pair of boots (size 9) while she coughed.  I screamed, freaking out.  I swabbed her mouth, tipped her upside down and hit her on the back.  I held my own breath, hoping she would be okay.  I hit her over and over.  That's when she upchucked everywhere.  I guess she'd eaten a piece of cat food.

I cringed.  How is it that babies can still find crap EVEN WHEN YOU JUST VACUUMED?  What was a piece of cat food doing there anyway?  Doctor Jones can sniff anything out!  She's practically a super agent!

Well, things were bad, but they could have been worse.  Her agent-like aim hadn't hit the shoes, but had still nailed our new rug.  "I'm so glad you're okay, baby girl."  I really was.  I hugged her tightly.  It had been scary and traumatic.  So, when Cade got home, I had a talk with him.

"You know how if you were that girl who had four kids just like ours, and how you'd go through the closets and stuff?"

"Yeah."  He nodded.

"Well, I got rid of some things today."

"Really?" he smiled super big.  "Like what?"

"Two pairs of your shoes."

"My . . . shoes?"

I almost laughed.

He paused, hoping I'd made the right choice.

"I wanted to do more, but Doctor Jones.  Well, Doctor Jones ate some cat food . . . and . . . threw up.  But the great news is that I got rid of one more thing."

"What was that?" he asked, looking horrified about the cat food.

"I got rid of the rug."

"Why?"

"Because it's not washable and there are some traumas that not even a rug can bounce back from."

He suddenly laughed.  "The new rug?"

"Yeah, do you hate me?"

"No."  He smiled.  "But I am wondering, which pairs of my shoes you got rid of."

After all that, we decided we'll go through the closets together.  That should be easier and then I won't chuck stuff that Cade wants to keep.

The main point of the story is: I tried.  I wanted to get rid of some stuff, but it wasn't in my cards.  I guess I'll try again later, maybe when Doctor Jones is sleeping.  Do you ever have moments like this?  Has your spouse ever become you (hypothetically)?  Has your kid ever eaten cat food, miraculously survived and then destroyed a new rug?  I'd love to read your stories.