Cleaning House with My Husband
This is a little essay I wrote on January 1, 2010.
In a recent conversation with my husband, Kim, he brought out the fact that he is a great overall picture man and not much of a little details man. Indeed, I have noticed that he attacks a task and gets it done as quickly as humanly possible—sort of. It has been my observation that slow and careful will sometimes outperform fast and unobservant.
Today we took down Christmas decorations and cleaned house. Anali and I undecorated the tree, then Kim took off the Christmas lights, rolled them up and somehow managed to shove them back into the box they had come in. I was packing Christmas things in what I hoped was a safe and organized manner. Kim handed the tree skirt to me, and I took it to the laundry room and started a load of wash with the skirt in it. I returned from the laundry room in time to see Kim pick up the Christmas tree and charge with it, bucket first, toward the front door. I foresaw a problem. Our front door opens in the wrong direction and requires some space to open it far enough to get in and out. Mikaden had gotten into the Nintendo games and spread them out neatly all over the front entry floor—along with various toys and “stuff”. By the time I had leaped to rescue my charging buffalo husband, he was already trying to walk through everything without stepping on something. (I have no idea how he managed it with a tree blocking part of his view.)
I quickly asked, “Would you like me to open the door?” as I tried to scoot all the toys out of his way.
Kim replied, “Ye-eah!” (Sounding like “Duh, why didn’t you already have it opened for me.” But that’s just my interpretation of the way he sounded. He probably didn’t mean it that way at all.)
As he rested the tree bucket against the edge of the black desk that’s in the front entry, I opened the door wide. He charged through in long strides. I shut the door, turned to look at Brandon, who’d been watching, and shook my head and rolled my eyes as we both exchanged looks of incredulity, knowing that we were both thinking the same thing. Oh, brother.
A minute later, I looked up to see Kim at the door (It is mostly glass.) He couldn’t push it open, so yelled at me, “Why’d you lock me out!!”
Surprised, I went over to the door and tried to open it. I could then see what had happened. When the tree had swept across the door jam, it had caught the little locking thingy installed to prevent Mikaden from getting out the door. Having been pulled around the edge of the jam, it was now wedged tightly between the door jam and the door. When I pointed at it, Kim realized what it was and just forcefully pushed the door open.
As he brushed past me and on to his next task, and me being unable to hold my tongue, I said, “You know, it’s really rude to accuse people. I’m your wife, why in heaven’s name would I lock you out!?”
He just said, “I don’t know!”
Then Tannan said, “Yeah, she wouldn’t lock you out unless you were in the dog house.”
And Brandon said, “Are you in the dog house, dad?”
A short while later, I saw Kim taking down the Christmas lights that I had taped around the front window. He was pulling them off, hand over hand. Suddenly, there was a crash. I looked over to see my ancient jade plant on its side on top of the DVD player. (We bought it as a baby plant for 49 cents in 1979.) The lights had tangled in the plant. There was broken plant and dirt all over the desk and floor.
I felt like yelling something that would include words like stupid and immature, but instead I said, “Wow. That was amazing.” Then I walked away before I succumbed to temptation.
Grumbling slightly, but having no one to blame but himself, Kim cleaned the mess and repotted the plant.
Later, as I was cleaning the front entry, I opened one of the desk drawers to put away the N64 games and noticed a sprinkling of dirt inside. “Oh, yeah, my plant,” I thought, and looked up to see that it was okay, but looking very different than before.
I vacuumed out the drawer as I replayed the incident in my mind. As I continued my work, I noticed pieces of tape still clinging to the window. As I pulled them off for disposal, I just smiled, shook my head, and thought, “Not a detail man. That is for sure.”
In a recent conversation with my husband, Kim, he brought out the fact that he is a great overall picture man and not much of a little details man. Indeed, I have noticed that he attacks a task and gets it done as quickly as humanly possible—sort of. It has been my observation that slow and careful will sometimes outperform fast and unobservant.
Today we took down Christmas decorations and cleaned house. Anali and I undecorated the tree, then Kim took off the Christmas lights, rolled them up and somehow managed to shove them back into the box they had come in. I was packing Christmas things in what I hoped was a safe and organized manner. Kim handed the tree skirt to me, and I took it to the laundry room and started a load of wash with the skirt in it. I returned from the laundry room in time to see Kim pick up the Christmas tree and charge with it, bucket first, toward the front door. I foresaw a problem. Our front door opens in the wrong direction and requires some space to open it far enough to get in and out. Mikaden had gotten into the Nintendo games and spread them out neatly all over the front entry floor—along with various toys and “stuff”. By the time I had leaped to rescue my charging buffalo husband, he was already trying to walk through everything without stepping on something. (I have no idea how he managed it with a tree blocking part of his view.)
I quickly asked, “Would you like me to open the door?” as I tried to scoot all the toys out of his way.
Kim replied, “Ye-eah!” (Sounding like “Duh, why didn’t you already have it opened for me.” But that’s just my interpretation of the way he sounded. He probably didn’t mean it that way at all.)
As he rested the tree bucket against the edge of the black desk that’s in the front entry, I opened the door wide. He charged through in long strides. I shut the door, turned to look at Brandon, who’d been watching, and shook my head and rolled my eyes as we both exchanged looks of incredulity, knowing that we were both thinking the same thing. Oh, brother.
A minute later, I looked up to see Kim at the door (It is mostly glass.) He couldn’t push it open, so yelled at me, “Why’d you lock me out!!”
Surprised, I went over to the door and tried to open it. I could then see what had happened. When the tree had swept across the door jam, it had caught the little locking thingy installed to prevent Mikaden from getting out the door. Having been pulled around the edge of the jam, it was now wedged tightly between the door jam and the door. When I pointed at it, Kim realized what it was and just forcefully pushed the door open.
As he brushed past me and on to his next task, and me being unable to hold my tongue, I said, “You know, it’s really rude to accuse people. I’m your wife, why in heaven’s name would I lock you out!?”
He just said, “I don’t know!”
Then Tannan said, “Yeah, she wouldn’t lock you out unless you were in the dog house.”
And Brandon said, “Are you in the dog house, dad?”
A short while later, I saw Kim taking down the Christmas lights that I had taped around the front window. He was pulling them off, hand over hand. Suddenly, there was a crash. I looked over to see my ancient jade plant on its side on top of the DVD player. (We bought it as a baby plant for 49 cents in 1979.) The lights had tangled in the plant. There was broken plant and dirt all over the desk and floor.
I felt like yelling something that would include words like stupid and immature, but instead I said, “Wow. That was amazing.” Then I walked away before I succumbed to temptation.
Grumbling slightly, but having no one to blame but himself, Kim cleaned the mess and repotted the plant.
Later, as I was cleaning the front entry, I opened one of the desk drawers to put away the N64 games and noticed a sprinkling of dirt inside. “Oh, yeah, my plant,” I thought, and looked up to see that it was okay, but looking very different than before.
I vacuumed out the drawer as I replayed the incident in my mind. As I continued my work, I noticed pieces of tape still clinging to the window. As I pulled them off for disposal, I just smiled, shook my head, and thought, “Not a detail man. That is for sure.”
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