Where the Sane Should Fear to Tread

Therapy Sessions on File


April

04/11/02
Wow. Either the drugs have been working or I've been lazy lately. Whatever. At least the humor factor has been up the last while, thanks to my hubby.

Hubby needed new pants for work, dress pants. All by his lonesome, he went out and bought them (yeah! I hate going to the mall.) So what does he ask me when he gets home? Where's the stapler. His version of hemming pants (in fact, fixing any garment problem) involves using staples. After convincing him the pants should really be hemmed with a needle and thread (and digging out the sewing box from the bowels of the shit-pile I call my office), he merrily went on his way. After ten minutes, my curiosity got the better of me and I had to see how he was faring. Good thing I did.

Hubby sat, on the needed-to-be-vacuumed living room floor, with needle and thread in hand. Only he wasn't using regular thread; he'd grabbed the stuff used to sew up a Christmas turkey's ass-end. For anyone who hasn't had that lovely chore, the thread is thick and heavy (think small rope). Not only was he using that, but he had it doubled as well! Okay, so I probably should have left the room before nearly falling unconscious from laughing so hard. Hubby is an intelligent man (the kind you do not want to play Trivial Pursuit or any game against) but when it comes to some things...

Hubby's also discovered why you shouldn't leave anything outside overnight. No, not because of yard thieves, but cats. Specifically, cats that pee on anything and everything. He has (or should that be had?) a nice fleece jacket. He wore it while cutting the grass on the weekend. It got hot, he took it off and tossed it on the front porch. He forgot it when he came in. By the time he retrieved it Monday morning, it smelled worse than any litter box I've had the pleasure to clean. And, of course, he didn't put it in the washer when he brought it in; it rested on the laundry room floor for a day-and-a-half first. Which severely annoyed our male cat, who had to add his scent to the mix. If that jacket ever comes clean and odorless, I'll eat my shoes.

Okie, time to convince the scanner to talk to the other puter again - temperamental beast.