This week, we’re excited to introduce a very special guest, the talented and hilarious Becky Clark! Becky writes the kind of humorous cozies we love, and she also blogs over at the fabulous Mysteristas. She’s agreed to be a special contributor to help fill in while the fabulous Kellye Garrett takes a much-deserved blogging hiatus, earning her the official title of “Free-Range Chick.” Take it away, Becky!
I don’t want to start a whole Battle of the Sexes thing here because I believe that to be Twitter’s job. But, I’m wading in. Let the chips fall where they may.
My husband has many, many fine qualities. I’d list them, but he might read this and then I’d have to spend time wrangling his ego back to size.
But.
Recently I showed him something that’s been an important part of our household for at least 25 years. No, not the wine rack, my shoe closet, or one of the kids. I was all nostalgic about it, almost verklempt. He said, and I quote, “What is that?”
And then the day after that I asked why he hadn’t put away the ceramic enchilada dishes after he emptied the dishwasher. Didn’t they get clean? Had they chipped? No. Nothing like that. He just didn’t remember where they lived. Again, I feel I must point out that we’ve had these dishes for at least a dozen years stored where he sees them every day. Every DAY, people!
And, yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes, I KNOW how spectacular it is that he does his share of the housework. Always has. I’m not complaining, really I’m not. But I find it all quite hilarious.
He, on the other hand, finds it hilarious that I maintain there is a right way — and a definite wrong way — to fold a towel, feed the dog, and park the car at the grocery store. And maybe, just maybe, a whole bunch of other stuff. But at least it means I SEE the towel, the dog, the parking spot, and that poor albatross around his neck.
Tell me more stories like this. This must happen elsewhere. Please, dear God, tell me this happens elsewhere. What occurs at your house that makes you squinch up your face and say, “Wait. What?”
(See that crease in my forehead? I’d like to point out that hubs had nothing to do with that bit of loveliness. The kids gifted me with my “What were you thinking” crease. They’re quite proud of it.)
Becky Clark writes full-time and is the author of the humorous Mystery Writer’s Mysteries. FICTION CAN BE MURDER is available wherever fine books are sold and FOUL PLAY ON WORDS is available for pre-order. She’s a proud member of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and the Colorado Author’s League. She shares space with the aforementioned practically perfect in every way husband, and Nala the Wonder Dog. The wonder, of course, is “how in the world can she lose so much hair every day?”
Chicks on the Case 
My husband has taken to leaving drawers partially open, cabinet doors ajar and other doors open. I am not sure what this means, but it drives me crazy.
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Clearly, that’s a cry for help, Christine. As in, “Help! I can’t remember how to close this cabinet!” … “Help! I slid out the drawer, and SEE the spoons, but what do I do NOW??”
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My wife does the same thing and it drives me BONKERS! She laughs when I walk through the kitchen closing everything.
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It’s like that creepy scene from The Sixth Sense.
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My SO does that as well!
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Too funny, Becky. I, too, have experienced that of which you speak, although no examples are immediately coming to mind.
The corollary phenomenon that I’ve noticed with the menfolk in my life is, “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” Which crops up at least once in every conversation where they relay a story that BEGS for more detail! “What did she say back?” “And did they ever find the kitten?” “So who did it turn out to be?”
…..
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
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This. So much this, Marla! My kids did this to me, too. They’d come home from school and tell me about a new kid on their bus. “Boy or girl? Live near us? What grade? Name? Did they seem lonely? Did you ask them to play?” times a gazillion. They’d just look at me like *I* was the weird one.
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Oh, that is so true, & so annoying! How do you not want to know the whole story?!
Mine does that too.
But even worse if he sees somebody & they tell him something by the time he gets home he’s totally forgotten. This could be just walking around the block with the dog.Three months later I’ll see this person & they’ll say “why didn’t you call?” I’m like ??? & they say I asked Pat to have you call me. I’ve gotten to where I “20 question” him when he comes home,& sometimes it works, sometimes not.
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Yes! So annoying! But then he’ll tell me the same story four times about someone I don’t even know!
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I’m single, but from observing my parents, both of them are equally as likely to not remember where something goes. Mom is a likely more likely to forget. And it’s always been that way.
What gets me is when they act like I should no where everything is when I visit. Stuff has changed so much in the 20+ years since I lived there, and I’m only there 3 or so times a year. Sorry, but its not often enough to remember.
Look at it this way: he didn’t just put the dish somewhere you’d never find it again. He may have forgotten, but at least he got you to help him with it.
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I’ve gotta side with the ‘rents here, Mark. Kids should be able to read their parents’ minds because of all the shared DNA. But, yes, you’re right, hubs didn’t stash the enchilada plates under the bathroom sink or in the garage or anything, but c’mon, that’s setting the bar a leeeetle bit low, isn’t it?
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I wasn’t thinking of the garage or the bathroom. Just in another cabinet in the kitchen that he’d forget about and you’d never be able to find.
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No fear It definitely happens here. One of the maintenance guys left a 1/2 bottle of Pepsi on the table on our porch. Not 6 inches from the garbage can. It sat there & sat there. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I figured he was waiting till he had to dump the trash & then he’d add it to the bag before closing it up. Nope. Finally I asked him why he didn’t add it to the garbage. His response? “huh?”. The bottle is STILL on the table.
Hubby has always been if there’s a hard way & an easy way, well, lets do the hard way. If there are 2 cart returns in the parking lot, one 2 spaces from the car & one 1/2 way across the parking lot, guess which he picks? He is why my hair is grey.
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Oh, Barbara, you make me weep. Shall we start a support group for grey-haired women who really know how to run the world? We can meet at my house as long as you don’t want enchiladas.
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No enchiladas for me thanks. Tequila, yes.
I’m just amazed there isn’t already a support group for us. It seems that once they get married they become helpless!
In his defense, he’s loved every animal that has followed me home.
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Yes, there are other lovely attributes. Of husbands AND tequila.
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They can be oblivious for sure. I have to say though, I think any husband who not only knows where the dishwasher is but actually empties it (even if he doesn’t put everything away properly) is a keeper.
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Yes, yes, yes. He actually works in the kitchen much more than I do. But hush up about it … where’s the fun in mocking that??
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My significant other actually called me when I was out of town at a conference to ask where the box of trash bags we’d bought at Costco was. I told him it was on the top shelf all the way to the left in the laundry room. He said it wasn’t. He’d looked there. I got home from the conference and there was the COSTCO-SIZED BOX OF TRASH BAGS exactly where I said it was. When I showed it to him, he said, “huh, just didn’t see it.” How? How did he not see it?
I, on the other hand, often notice things, but don’t always interpret them correctly. Years and years ago, I pulled into the subdivision where we lived and passed by a neighbor’s house. I knew people were upset with the neighbor for some too bright motion sensor lights that came on at night and a fence they thought was too high. Whatever. There were a line of black SUVs in front of the house and a gentleman wearing a suit and sunglasses who waved at me as I went past. I waved back (could be someone I just didn’t recognize but had met somewhere) and commented to my husband that the neighbors must be having a party. IT WAS THE DEA RAIDING THE HOUSE!!!! The guy was laundering money. The man who waved was an agent telling me to keep going.
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LOL, Eileen!!
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LOL! Eileen, I can’t believe your mystery writer brain didn’t immediately suspect “crime”! As for the trash bags, I believe the bigger the box, the less likely a man is to see it. 🙂
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It was actually before my mystery writing days, but I’m still not sure it would register. I’ve had similar (but not as funny) things happen in the past few years.
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I need to know the correct way to park at the grocery store because I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing it wrong for 21 years…
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There are aisles where, if you park in them, will only lead to heartbreak and pain. Like for instance the ones that lead you to the front of the store where you have to let ever bozo pedestrian walk by. And by “bozo pedestrian” I mean “shopper minding their own business simply trying to enter or leave the store.” Way better to park in a slightly further away aisle where you can be the bozo pedestrian, but zip out of the lot. Stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you what’s what. I know many fine tricks.
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Eileen, that’s hilarious! Hubs and I keep track of movies we want to add to our Netflix queue on a piece of paper in a drawer in the kitchen. We were watching coming attractions and saw one we wanted to add. He gets up, goes to the drawer, shuffles through all the papers in there. “It’s not here.” … “Yes it is.” shuffle, shuffle “No it’s not.” … “Do you really want me to come over there and wave it in your face?” … “You can’t because it’s not here.” So I go over there, and in 1/8 of a second wave it in his face. He was not amused. But HOW can you not see something that’s right there looking like it always has??
I can’t relate to your DEA bust, though. I have remarkable stories for everyone in my neighborhood. None of them “must be having a party.”
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My husband has this thing where he says something to me in his mind and then thinks I should know what he said. “I didn’t tell you that?” No dear, not out loud.
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You know what? I think I may have possibly done that once or twice — three times max — but he definitely does. Although, in his defense, we’ve been married for seven thousand years so we can kinda read each other’s minds.
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Great post, Becky! I swear my husband is gaslighting me sometimes. He’ll swear up and down that I didn’t tell him something while I swear up and down that I did. Of course, because women question more than men in general, I cave first. It would never occur to him he might be wrong. Same with disagreements. I’m always the one “arguing.”
I, on the other hand, stubborn as I am, try to live by the old maxim that I’d rather be happy than right.
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I have no doubt you told him. Probably twice. Next time, tell me then I’ll tell him. Probably twice.
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And here I thought I was the only one whose husband does that! I often get the “where do you keep ‘whatever'” and after I give a detailed explanation I get, “it’s not there”. Of course I walk over and pick it up from exactly where I said it was. I also get the “I don’t know where some of the clean dishes go” after emptying the dishwasher… but, I truly am grateful for any bit of household help I get so I can l live with that. I’ve learned over the course of many years if something is truly, truly important to me that is imparted as a promise by my husband I 1) make sure he is making eye contact with me when he promises and 2) get it in writing. It’s cut down on arguments because he knows he hears me talking but doesn’t always listen, lol!
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Good point, Kim. Listening and hearing are two entirely different things. As for magically finding things exactly where they belong, I once heard my husband tell somebody he HATES having to ask me stuff like that. I try not to rub it in, but, well, who am I kidding … I rub it in.
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Hilarious, Becky! So excited to have you as a free-range Chick! So, last week hubs is standing by the kitchen counter and says, “I thought we bought popcorn.” His elbow is actually touching a box that has Popcorn written in huge letters on the side. Clearly, these me could not survive without us! (I’m sure they think the same about us – like me screwing in a burned out bulb and wondering why it doesn’t work. True story.)
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OMG, Vicki, that’s classic! I guess the deciding factor — for me, anyway — as to whether to freak out or just laugh, is hubs’ reaction to a “popcorn” situation. If he laughs then it’s just a silly situation. Lucky for me, hubs usually accepts his defeat graciously!
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This is so funny. Totally. (So happy you’re here.)
What comes to mind for me is how (and keep in mind that I’m the only female in the four-person household) I asked if we could please keep one corner of the kitchen island (which became known as “the quadrant”) clear because when you turn around with things from the fridge in your arms, you need to be able to set them there. As SOON as I asked for the quadrant to be reserved, so to speak, things started piling up there. Things that never before had even come near the island. Things that have no business being on the island.
Basically–
Me: Could we please not put anything on the quadrant?
Them: Challenge to always put things on the quadrant accepted.
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The only thing I want to do now is put random stuff on your island, Cynthia. *rushes off to gather pruning shears, floor mat from my car, beach ball, evergreen bough, one stilletto paired with one stinky sneaker, and a lacrosse stick*
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Ha ha! *makes plans to hang up Becky’s guest towels wrong next time*
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NOOOOO!
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I loved this post, Becky! Although…as I was laughing my head off, I had the awful feeling that maybe I was not the observant one in our marriage. In fact, my hubby regularly calls me “Miss Observant” (not in a flattering, but more of a loving, “Duh!” way). I do like everything in its place (okay, MY) place, it’s true–but I usually think about stuff like that when I am mulling a plot point or I’m supposed to be in my office actually writing something down. I am occasionally a little…spacey around the house, especially the kitchen.
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Lisa, I’m sure you’re observant about other things. Like “Looky there. Six hours have passed since I last thought about doing that laundry. Hmm.”
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This discussion makes me wonder if there really is something about the double-X chromosome that makes women more observant than men and if so, why? Maybe it has to do with having to keep track of all your babies back in the olden days to make sure one hasn’t run off and been eaten by a wolf…
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Perhaps, Leslie. But at my house, my hubs says, “You just keep doing the thinking, Butch.” Not sure which of us is better trained ….
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About fifteen years ago I stayed with friends for a short time while recuperating from surgery. More recently, maybe three years ago, I was at their house for dinner. The wife asked the husband to get something from the pantry. He opened the door, stuck his head inside, said “I can’t find it. Deb, you lived here once; do you know where we keep it?”
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Too funny!
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That’s hilarious, Deb! I hope you said, “Yes, it’s behind the beans, right next to the quinoa.”
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This was so great! Rough work day, so it turned my day around.
I have given up on expecting the SO to know what to do.
Him “Where does this little condiment dish go?” Me “Exactly where you pulled it out Dear!”
Him “I do the dishes!” Me “Yes, but I’d like them in the dishwasher before the sink breaks from the weight of dirty dishes Dear!”
Him “Where is XXX?” Me “Look at 6 o’clock. No. Straight ahead. Down. Down. Down. Right there Dear!”
But my favorite? Me “I want a pepper mill for Christmas. A red one to match my kitchen. OXO brand. At Sur La Table. It’s $25..” Him “Do you like the bread maker I got you for Christmas?” Me “Good Lordy!”
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I love the sound of that “DEAR” … I can hear it, and see the effort it takes not to perform an eyeroll that might hurt your neck. (Hope today is better, Hestia!)
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