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Ouatic-7 [userpic]
Sometimes It is About the Toothpaste Cap

Today is my laundry day. I get up at 0-dark hundred, like always, and start my three loads. While waiting on the machine I catch up on the week's TV. The advantage is I get to watch my telly without snide comments from the peanut gallery until pilgham gets up to 'pute. Invariably, he goes to the kitchen to make coffee just when I'm carrying a load upstairs, leaving his chair pulled out across the sole path. Invariably, I snarl.

For some reason, this morning this ritual reminded us of an argument we had back when we were shacked up and only had one bathroom, and what's more to the point, only one tube of toothpaste. I chewed him out about leaving the cap off for the forty-leventh time. He said he heard that it was never about the toothpaste. I explained that it was in fact about the toothpaste and he better stop leaving the damn cap off.

Strangely, he apparently finds this comforting. I'm surmising this is because he doesn't have to guess what I'm really mad about. Also, since I vent regularly, I never really build up any steam.

Now, I should probably filter this entry, else he will chime in saying how I misunderstood what he said and we will have a real fight. But I don't have that much sense.

Also, a miracle occurred today. I went into a store, without calling ahead, and they had the very item I wanted, in the color I wanted, for the price I saw online AND, on seeing the thing, it actually did meet my needs.

Pretty picture pilgham captured for me from the game he is writing:

My new wallpaper at work

Mood: contentcontent
Tune: "Camel Walk" by Southern Culture on the Skids

Yes, I've never understood that entire 'fighting about everything but what's bothering you' thing, either. If something bugs me, I'm going straight to the topic.

Pretty wallpaper.

Well, Paul told me way back when that he couldn't take hints so we have always been pretty forthright.

But, yeah, there is really no point in fighting about the tooth paste cap if what you are really mad about is him staying out all night with the guys, buying an expensive toy without checking with you, or whatever.

I guess we aren't the only ones with a computer located at the entrace way to the laundry. It IS irritating to have to shove my way through with an armful of laundry, but that's not what we were bickering over tonight.

He is doing good, and his days are numbered.

Unless I very much miss my guess, every one of you have a Finnish fish-skinning knife somwhere about. I am taking them all. I need them.

I dare not ask why.

How will I recognize my Finnish fish skinning knife? I must know it under a different name (like "Bob").


Oh, come now. They are the knives with thin blades that simply everyone's father and husbands have in their tackle boxes. They have light tan colored leather sheaths with a slight fringe at the end.

Although I've given over the idea of flensing Richard for the time being. I just want to be sure that I have the option.

Actually, he is the very type who picks arguments not only about things that are not really the issue, but he is likely to do it with a person other than the one he is truly annoyed at. I live a very complicated life.

But at least I had the wit to put the computer tucked into a corner tower in the living room.

This popping up unexpectadly as anonymous is getting annoying.

My husband doesn't own a tacklebox.

Actually pilgham's computer is in the living room. It just happens that if he lives his chair pulled out, as anyone might do, it blocks the sole path to the second floor. However, I have been doing the laundry on Sunday morning for at least a decade...

Isn't that illegal?

::See, that is the confused Gremlin Kitty. Isn't she precious?::

Not owning a tacklebox? I have one but 'tis filled with the cast off dreams of youth.

Himself just shrugs his shoulders in this tiresome manner and says, "So? I take it the guy doesn't fish."

But Brigid delights me by getting confused over UPS. "What is ups? It seems weird."

*This family moment brought to you by the letter 'O', and the number 0.*