Saturday, September 15, 2012

I Apologize in Advance

Lucy and Chet and Baby A arrive home in one week.

This is great news. I am missing my best friend. I am missing my baby. I am running out of ideas on how to pose their dog, Wolf, for the picture that I email to them daily.


Or buy him some wireless headphones.

Because he has led me to believe that I am turning into my mother.

My mom has always been sensitive to noise. She was always telling us to turn down the television. It made me crazy, how my mom hated loud noises and was unwilling to realize that Clarissa Explains It All should be watched at full volume or really damn near it.

Last Sunday, I was sitting on the couch and trying to blog while Foreign Exchange Student was watching television. I wanted to blog from bed. But I am quite aware that Foreign Exchange Student is very lonely. That makes me sad for him so I sucked it up to passively hang out in his presence.

It literally took me two hours to blog because the television was so. damn. loud.

And it isn’t like blogging is equivalent to writing a term paper. (I’m sure you’ve noticed the incomplete sentences and misspellings and grammar errors and overuse of parenthesis.) I can blog in most any situation. Except when the television volume is turned up to 140 decibels and, listen, it isn’t like he was watching The Cutting Edge or an episode of Girls. No. He favors Bar Rescue and truly awful sitcoms.

Foreign Exchange Student is weird about food, which makes me weird about him. He’s picky: fine. But the kind of picky that comes with ragging on with what someone else is eating drives me absolutely insane. It’s totally my #1 pet peeve. He’s also doing this weird thing where he’s randomly throwing away food out of the refrigerator. Food that is not spoiled. Food that I bought for me to eat and then I go into the refrigerator and it is no longer there. It is in the garbage. What the hell?

On the topic of garbage. Foreign Exchange Student is good about taking out the garbage. But bad about putting the lid on the garbage can so that the friendly neighborhood raccoons don’t get in the garbage. Like, how many times do we have to clean up that mess? Seriously. How many times? Because we’re at 6+ and I am over it.

Also he has not once taken the garbage out to the curb on garbage day. Man fail.

And he doesn’t recycle. That makes my green heart hurt.

And there are the crumbs. And the dishes. And the TV left on in his bedroom every hour of every day.

This is what happens, isn’t it? When you are single and you develop a strong sense of right and wrong about house things? You want to murder stupid boys simply because they don’t know any better.

This is why getting married at 19 – like my mom and dad did – is the smartest thing ever.

My dad is so trained. My mom had him scrubbing the floors before he knew better.

Foreign Exchange Student is so not trained.

I should just apologize to my future husband right now. I’m sorry for being a crazy person. I’m sorry I was single for so long and found exactly the right way to do everything and expect you to do it all that way, too. I am sorry that I’m insane.


Elliott said...

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) it can work the same way for males. I personally was single until I was 29. I had lived in, and owned, two houses at that point in time. So I was pretty stuck in my ways of keeping a neat and tidy house too...

I still do all the ironing because then I don't have to bite my tongue when it's done differently than the way I like.

This could work both ways when you find your mate.

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