Once upon a time, a prince met a beautiful princess, saved her from the wicked queen, kissed her sweet red lips, and they rode merrily off into the sunset. The End.
No disrespect to all the good folks up the road (just yonder) at Disney, but… who the hay writes this stuff? Why does “The End” always come before the real good stuff like the year of cooking disasters with the kitchen ablaze, fist-fights with the in-laws, and arguing over whether to hire a nanny for the dog? You know – the real stuff. Like they show on reality TV. That’s real, right?
But really – could the two sexes be any more different?! Don’t get me wrong. In most ways it seems to work. Girl, boy. Husband, wife. Mother, father. Men and women are compliments to each other.
Like red and green.
Steak and potatoes.
Ice skating and hot cocoa.
You know what I mean. We fit together like the pieces of a puzzle.
Only it’s a jigsaw. 5000 pieces.
And someone lost the box with the picture on it.
I love my hubs. He is the most wonderful, caring, non-judgmental chunk of hunky I have ever known.
But he’s different. So different.
Case in point:
He says: “I’m going to clean the carpet
I say: “Great!”
He finishes one load of dirty, brown, some-kind-of-something-floating-in-it water in our machine and proceeds to dump said nastiness into my CLEAN BATHTUB.
I say (read in irritated wife voice – yeah, you know the one): “Gosh, why can’t you dump that outside? I told you that last time!”
He says: “It doesn’t matter. It’s the same.”
THE SAME????? THE SAME AS WHAT???? The same as peeing on the bathroom floor when the toilet is RIGHT THERE??? The same as drinking from the milk jug when there is a clean cup RIGHT THERE???
Oh wait, the milk jug thing is me.
Anyway… this is why he doesn’t get to clean much when I’m home. I’m nit-picky.
He says: “Listen, I wash my dirty hindparts (ok, that’s not the word he used, but it’s a humorous alternative) in the bathtub – that’s just as nasty as the dirty carpet water!”
I say: “Whatever! The carpet is way dirtier than your [hindparts]!”
He says: “No it’s not!”
See, we’re just different. Oh, so very different.
And for the record – my [hindparts] are most definitely not as nasty as the dirty carpet water…
But the carpet’s not that bad either. It’s not. It’s not.