Husbands are Humerous

Stuart and I have been married for 6 years. During that time we have moved 6 times and have lived in 6 different dwellings. For the most part my "decorating" and organization has been the same in each dwelling, with the exception of having kids. With that said, let me explain my dear, husband.

Since I have been sick all weekend (and can I just thank my lucky stars that this illness fell on a weekend?), Stuart has been picking up my slack and "taking care" of things with the boys. (I really do appreciate his help, it's just comical to me the way that he helps) Friday was the beginning of my incarceration and thus started day one of Daddy Helps. His culinary genius spiked and he loaded the boys and came home with a tempting little concoction known as: pizza. It smelled good, but I wasn't hungry but the boys ate and there was minimal clean up required. Friday night I was pretty much comatose so I have no idea what happened at bed time and whether or not teeth got crushed, but I know the boys woke up in their room Saturday morning, so he at least got them in the right place Friday night.

Saturday marked a comedy of errors. First up: dishes. I know what some of you are thinking, "Why are you worried about the dishes? Shouldn't you be happy that your husband is even helping you?" I am, really I am. But, have we met? Hi, I'm Clarissa. I like to put my children in matching clothing even though they aren't twins, I like to eat Skittles in color order, I alphabetize my CDs, I have a relationship with my TIVO and I like dishes put away a certain way. I am honored to be called obsessive compulsive. (I once took a goofy survey that said I was 114% OCD, I was only beat by JW who was 120% (I think) but she's a smarty pants nurse with a hobolicious one year old, so she gets a few extra points.) If you remember, we have moved a couple of times, but we have lived in out current house (and yes, it's OURS) for 7 months. One would think that my handsome husband would have a good handle on where things are by now. One would be wrong. When unloading the dishwasher, Stuart opens every cabinet so that he can "see" what's inside. Not a bad idea. But somehow he still manages to find creative ways to "hide" the things he doesn't know where to put/doesn't care where to put. It takes me a good 10 minutes to find all my missing pieces and then another 5 to put them up correctly. As for loading the dishwasher-that's a total disaster. There is no order and when all is said and done, he can only fit half the dishes that I can in the dishwasher and the rest are left next to the sink (pet peeve #148). I have relented a bit when it comes to this helpful chore, I DO appreciate the help so I have to let him DO it in order to get the help. Ahem.

Then came dressing the boys. Again, since we have moved several times and since we have two children, I have made things easier for him. Tucker's things are on top and Tyson's are on bottom. I have even gone so far as to label the dresser so that he can easily find pajamas vs pants. (I LOVE my label maker) Apparently this is too easy. As the boy flitted by me Saturday morning, non matching, I noted that Tyson was wearing one of Tucker's shirts and shorts and that Tucker was wearing Tyson's shirt and who knows who's shorts. To round our their ensembles were their church shoes. Umph. I hadn't the energy to correct him at that conjecture.

At lunch, I casually reminded Stuart that Tucker needed to take some medicine (he too has allergies).
Stu: "Where's the medicine at?"
Me: "In the medicine cabinet." <--in a ridiculously hoarse, whisper
Stu: "Where's that?"
Me: "Really?!"

At bath time, I asked (again, scratchy whisper) Stuart to get the towels ready.
Stu: "Where do we keep the towels?"
Me: "You have got to be kidding me."
Stu: "No, where are the towels?"
Me: making a mental note to give Stuart a tutorial regarding the ENTIRE house. With note cards.

I love my husband and I am so thankful that he helps. But sometimes I have to laugh at him. Really hard.