My Husband

If you follow this blog, you know I have a Wisconsin mantra that I write when I see things that fascinate me (usually in a bizarro, out of my realm of experience kind of way).  That mantra is:  "Only in Wisconsin."  I have written the mantra about things such as large statues of cows.

I have a different kind of mantra where my husband is concerned.  It is in question format:  "You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?"  I usually write that immediately before launching into something he does that, like above, fascinates me in a bizarro, out of my realm of experience kind of way.  So, here we go:

You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?

I do love and adore him but that man cannot keep a bathroom straightened up for nothin'.  At our home in Columbus, this is what I usually found when I walked into his bathroom.  

Seriously??  Is it too much to ask to pick the dirty clothes up off the floor and walk into the room immediately next door to the bathroom and put them in a laundry basket?  Is it too hard to put something back where you got it?  For example, if you take the deodorant out of the medicine cabinet to use it, can you not then put the deodorant back in the medicine cabinet when you are done?  Is that difficult??

(Scott had little appreciation for the fact that I took this picture.  I'm sure he will have much less appreciation for the fact that I have posted it on my blog.  Sorry honey.  You know I love you, right?  You know I adore you, right??)

In Columbus, Scott had various reasons (excuses?) why he couldn't keep his bathroom straightened up.  Most of those reasons had to do with the set up of that particular bathroom and that particular house.

January 2010.  500 miles away from that particular bathroom and that particular house.  In my first temporary apartment in Madison.  There is only 1 bathroom.  Scott is here with me for a few days.  This is a picture of the bathroom.  

I assure you that's not my sh*t on the floor.  Two different bathrooms.  Two different residences.  500 miles apart.  Still have clothes piled up on the bathroom floor.

This is a picture of the bathroom in the house we are trying to buy in Stoughton.

As you can see, there are 2 sinks-- indicating Scott and I will be sharing a bathroom.  How do you think that's going to go?

OK. Let me step off the messy bathroom topic.  On to something else.  Mantra is the same:  You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right? 

Scott was recently with me for almost 2 full weeks here in Madison.  A day or two after he left, I was in the kitchen and this caught my eye.

Do you recognize what that is?  Well, the pile of papers is obvious.  But the blue thing.  Do you know what it is?  Yes, that's right.  It is a chewed piece of gum.  I sh*t you not.  My husband, the man I love and adore, took a piece of gum out of his mouth and stuck it on the pile of papers because, what?  He was going to want a piece of ABC gum later?

And then there is this.  Sometimes when I'm motoring around, I will glance at my husband and see this pose.

Think that means he wants something else to drink?  Yes, and apparently he wants me to get it for him.  I wonder what all those hard core feminists that I used to take Women's Studies classes with would have to say about this?  Actually, I can kind of guess what they might say.  I hope Gloria Steinem doesn't read my blog.  Back in college in 1990 I never would have guessed that I would end up being such a disappointment to feminists everywhere.  But, alas....

Final topic for now.  Mantra:  You know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?

That man can spend some money.  Unemployed?  No matter.  The old lady works.  (LOL.  Did I just refer to myself as the old lady?  I just sunk even lower on the disappointment-to-feminists everywhere scale.)

Anyhow, it's not Scott's fault he is unemployed.  He is a hard worker and good at what he does. The construction industry just sucks right now.  His industry is feast or famine, that's for sure.  When he works, he rolls in the money.  Which is great.  But, when he is working, could we possibly try to save a little more for a rainy day?  Apparently not.  Mr. Big Spender has to have the best of everything.  Case in point.  A tool box.

Scott decided to get a new tool box.  You are probably thinking something metal or plastic with a handle on top that you carry around, right?   Noooooo.  Not for my husband.  This is the toolbox he got.

A massive, Craftsman stainless steel toolbox.  Do you know how much that thing cost??  I don't remember the exact amount.  I just remember it was A LOT.  Why can't we have just a regular tool box like everyone else?  Why do we have to have every power tool known to humankind (I may have just gotten a couple points back with the feminists for using "humankind" instead of "mankind") and why do all those tools have to be expensive brands, like DeWalt?  Hell, even the clock and the radio in the garage are DeWalt.

Need a table saw?

Got it.

Circular saw?

Got it.

Power washer?

Got it.

Air compressor?

Got it.

Pneumatic nail gun?

Got it.

The list goes on and on.  This is what our garage at home looks like.  It doesn't even show all the stuff lined up along the left side wall. Mower, blower, spreader, wheel barrow.  OH, and beer in that fridge. 

 

Scott posed for the picture wearing a Volvo hard hat that has the safety goggles actually attached to it. We got to giggling so hard about it that he decided to wear it in the picture.  Here is a close up.  This picture makes me laugh.  Scott is so silly sometimes.  That facial expression.  Just silly.

See?  See how I do?  I start out all worked up about messy bathrooms and end up giggling about his silliness.  That's the reason for my mantra.  No matter how much crazy hillbilly sh*t he does, you know I love my husband, right?  You know I adore him, right?  I can hardly wait until he gets to Madison full time and permanently.  If we're lucky, that will be within 2 weeks.

Scott, I love you baby boy.