My happy marriage often consists of little head games that Bill and I like to play with each other.
Gotta keep it fresh.
I'm married to a wonderful man who does an excellent job of providing for our family. After all these years he still makes my palms sweat and my heart race. He makes me laugh and he helps me to put things into perspective on those frustrating days when I can't think of anything else to do but scream or cry. I couldn't ask for a more caring and attentive husband and better father to our children. It's for these reasons that I try not to be the stereotypical nagging harpy wife. I try to overlook the little inconveniences like shoes and clothes left on the floor instead of in the closet, and wet towels flung over the edge of the tub.
Notice that I said, "I try to overlook" these things. On a good day I will just pick up the wet towel and hang it up. On a bad day I bitch about the towel, which usually ends up in me yelling something stupid like, "IF YOU REALLY CARED ABOUT ME YOU WOULD ALWAYS HANG UP YOUR TOWELS!" Thankfully those days are rarer than the good days. I'm not proud of it, but surprise, surprise, this gal isn't perfect. Of course, I always apologize and sometimes I blame PMS, even if it's not that time of the month. But now the secret is out. I blame my hormones when I'm just cranky. Sue me.
We all know that PMS is the ultimate scapegoat for bitchiness, right? So I guess that means that PMS is my girl sometimes, even though I mostly hate her stinkin' guts. Nonetheless, she's got my back.
Where was I? Oh yeah, mind games and how we play them. When I am the one to finish up a roll of toilet paper, I take the cardboard roll off the toilet paper holder, deposit it in the trash can, and then I put the new roll on the holder. It's three easy steps, and quite the simple maneuver, what with the spring-loaded action and all. I prefer my paper hanging over the roll rather than coming out from under, but hey, I'll take it how I can get it. Beggars can't always be choosers.
One would think this would be a simple maneuver. It's three steps, people. So can one of you please review this simple procedure with my husband? Again? Thanks. Now I won't have to sound like the nagging harpy. I'll just play the role of the passive-aggressive harpy. I assure it's quite Oscar-worthy.
Bill always casually sets the new roll on top of the empty roll, and I'm convinced he does this to mess with my head. He knows I'll just put the new roll on the holder, which will save him from the excruciatingly painful task of removing the empty cardboard roll and installing the new one. I mean really, I can't tell you how many times I've almost lost a finger doing this job. That's how difficult it is. The sheer amount of willpower and energy it takes to replace a roll of toilet paper is un-freakin'-believable. I have to sit down and rest for a bit afterwards, catch my breath and relax my muscles. I get tired and winded just thinking about it.
However, this time I got a little cri-zazy. I just let the roll sit there, even though it annoyed me. See? I even took a picture for you.
I know. I like to live on the edge. Look how the roll is almost used up. That's how long I've left it just sitting there perched on top of the empty cardboard.
Well hang on to your seats fair readers, because this is not where our story ends. I took the above picture yesterday, thinking I would rant about the sheer hilarity of it all right here in my blog, but I never got around to it last night. Then, when I went to use the bathroom this morning, this is what I saw:
Two rolls now? I just had to laugh. And of course, I had to grab my camera. (And because I don't think I have enough pictures of my toilet paper.) Apparently, what had happened was the smaller roll fell into the magazine rack in our bathroom, (Yes, we read in there. I know you do too. Don't judge us.) and Bill couldn't find that roll, so he went and got a brand new roll. But then he found the smaller roll that initially went missing, and put it on top so we could use that one up first.
So let's review. He expended the energy to WALK and get a new roll, yet once he got to the bathroom he had no more energy left to actually install the new roll? And if the first roll had been ATTACHED to the wall in the first place, then we wouldn't have had the problem of that roll of toilet paper getting lost now, would we? No we would not.
I assure you I am not toilet-obsessed. I know I blog about the bathroom a lot, but that's where the funny happens in our house. And we all know that you can't control where the funny happens in your life. Turkey basters show up randomly by the toilet, kids miss the bullseye, and my little girl won't even try to do her "business" on the porcelain throne. (See, how I cleaned that up for you, lest I offend your sensibilities? "Business" is a much more tasteful word to use, and I didn't even have to say the word "poop" once today in my blog. Oh crap. I just said it.) I wish the funny happened somewhere a lot more highbrow like the dining room or the den. I could tell stories like, "We were having tea and scones today in the formal dining room and my little boys thought it would be funny to put three lumps of sugar in their darjeeling instead of two. Oh those little scamps!"
Obviously, if this is the worst problem I have in my marriage, I'm very lucky. That's why I'll shut up and resist the urge to nag, and just change the roll myself. I know these little things aren't what really matter in a good marriage.
Of course, it's a little passive-aggressive of me to dedicate an entire blog posting to this topic, but I had to vent. And maybe someone out there will listen to what I'm saying.