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.
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?”