The Chamber of Secrets
You better sit down for this one:
Cute Redhead hates my iPhone. She hates it. If you ask her, “Cute Redhead, do you hate High Powered Man’s iPhone??” she would look you straight in the eye, raise her eyebrows and say, “Oh, goodness sakes, no!”
And she would be lying right through her teeth. She’d try to sustain the weight of the bald-face lie, though, but then it’d implode in all over itself. And then she’d choke on the exclamation point and fall dead at your feet.
So, there we were driving along Interstate Middle of Nowhere yesterday and (you’ll want to sit down again for this one) she was driving. Begging the question, “Todd? We’re you held at gunpoint and given no choice but to let her drive?? Wha–??” And I would say, “Now, now…it’s not that bad.” But then I would be lying and this really isn’t about me so let’s move on.
While she was at the wheel, I was on my iPhone. Which is sort of like saying I was on crack.
Well. Actually…okay, it’s exactly like saying I was on crack. But it was very productive crack because what I was doing was (HUGE Marty Stewart coming here) going through the entire house, room-by-room, and making notes on all the To Do’s that needed To Get Done. Which may sound boring as can be but was actually a lot less boring than looking out the window at Bleak Utter Nothingness passing by.
When I finished (it took me about an hour and a half) (sounds like we run a tight ship, huh, lol?) (yeah no), I set it down, crossed my arms, smiled, looked straight ahead and said, “Are you wanting to give that dude in front of us an SUV enema, because I’m not sure we could get any further up his rear end without a big giant rubber glove.” Actually, I didn’t say that but I thought it. What I did say was, “Very cool. That was fun.”
“What was fun?”
“Well, I just went through the house, room-by-room, and wrote down everything that needs to be done organizationally to make better use of all the space we’re not utilizing.”
(to which she said and I promise I’m not making this up):
“Oh my gosh! That’s exactly what I was doing too!”
And that was really cool. See? Seventeen years of marriage and we actually have the occasional mind meld.
Very cool.
And that’s why I brought up that she hates my iPhone. Which is sad because that’s like hating the baby Jesus in the manger and I just think that’s rude. So, when she realized that I was on the iPhone (here I genuflect) being productive and looking for ways to improve our familial quality of life, you just KNOW she beat herself up for thinking bad iPhone thoughts and being all wrapped around the axle and regretting being so mean to me and wanted to apologize for that and more, so much so she couldn’t even see straight.
lol I kill me.
Today, I made good on my Marty Stewart Hopped Up On Methamphetamines Reorganization and Restructuring Plan. And the first thing I did was go into the crawl space under the house. Which we have, for years, called the Chamber of Secrets because that’s was where we would (can’t divulge that information here in case The Spawn have learned to read). And the reason I cleaned it out was because it had turned into the Big Giant Magical Landfill under our house in which you could throw anything you didn’t want to deal with and it would be gone forever. Including your spouse.
lol I kill me.
Anywhoooo…I did it. I cleaned the crawl space. Threw out this, moved that, and decided I’d take a photograph of the biggest spider factory on planet earth. Anyone see Blair Witch Project? Remember The! Very! Last! Scene?! Where that dude is standing in the corner but you don’t see him until the other one is knocked stone cold dead by Creepy Killer Guy You Never Actually See and then the camera sort of tilts when it falls on the ground and you see that dude in the corner? And then you landed in the lap of the perfect stranger in the theatre seat next to you begging him to hold you and make it stop? (not that I did.)
(Okay, I did.)
I don’t have time to go into it here, but Cute Redhead and I got in a big fat giant argument tonight about how I’m going to be cleaning and organizing the entire house for us. All by itself, that argument could fill a book. I would title the book “All Women Are Out Of Their Minds—HOW IN THE WORLD COULD YOU BE ANYTHING BUT KISSING MY BUTT FOR BEING WILLING TO DO THIS FOR YOU?!”
And it would be a best-seller.
It would be available online. It would sell in stores. It would fly off the shelves. It would be available as an electronic eBook
for
the
iPhone.
Which she wouldn’t read because she hates the baby Jesus my iPhone.
I just wrote (in my head) the FUNNIEST rebuttal to this… I’m laughing so hard I’m in tears!
I believe Andrea has something she’d like to share with the rest of the class…