Two for one.
Ok, since I’m updating this during weekdays, it looks like you get a two-for-one in this post.
Last night, I came home from work, and immediately noticed something was off. It was the smell of bleach… but, knowing my wife as well as I do, I didn’t even have to look around to see if anything had been cleaned with bleach, I just knew that it hadn’t. So I look in the living room, there’s my wife, watching some TV show on netflix, not even paying attention to the one crying child in front of her… Wait… one? I definitely have two children. So I walk toward my bedroom, looking for my missing child that my damn wife seems to have forgotten about. Of course, when I arrive in the bedroom my son has the spray bottle of bleach cleaner, and is spraying it all over the bathroom. Add to that the fact that the bedroom was destroyed, clothes, blankets, decorations, lotion, drawers all of these things were everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean looked as if they’d all been piled on top of a grenade, then the explosion sent the items flying to all corners of the room. But hey, the good news is that my damn wife now knows the fate of Dr. McSexy on her favorite soap opera…
And then the morning comes.
Remember the $58.80 spent on used clothes that she claimed were for the kids? I do. Turns out that “for the kids” meant “for my damn wife” and they were all loaded into our already full closet. So this morning I’m getting ready for work, when, while pulling a pair of pants off of a hanger, the entire closet shelf on her side collapses under the weight of used clothes. So after shrugging a metric ton of clothes off of my head, I dug my way out of the pile on the floor, triumphantly emerging from the closet of doom with my work pants in tact. But, my damn wife insists that she doesn’t have enough clothes and still needs to buy more.