We have a problem.
It's not a new problem, and sits in the very large pile of other problems, threatening to fall over and incinerate the entire block.
It's Mrs. lefty's phone. More accurately it's the location of Mrs. lefty's phone.
Mrs. lefty could not locate her phone if it was glued to her hand. Consequently, no one knows where the phone is, and my phone's sole purpose (since no one ever calls me) is to call her phone to locate it. This is generally helpful, but she's outsmarted this lately by leaving the phone in the car. People walking by the car know where the phone is, because the car's ringing, but she still doesn't know.
Being a problem-solver, I came up with an idea: we staple the phone to her forehead. This was highly thought of, but the issue was when she had to use the phone. After she was done, the phone had to be put back on her forehead, and she probably lost the stapler. So much for that brilliant idea.
In addition to the location of the phone, there's the NOISE. Each and every notification is set to a BING, BOOM, CAR CRASH, and MISSILE EXPLOSION. They're set so loud, even the neighbors think a missile has landed. This also has the unintended benefit of pissing me off, because it always goes off near me. It's particularly fun where there are a few alarms set. It goes off, makes me MAD, and I have to find it and turn it off. Five minutes later, it goes off again. And so on. I ask politely to have it turned down, maybe to levels of large building implosions, but am turned down.
HEY.... there's magic to her madness.... *I* am the Phone Locator. I will always known where it is and give it to her, just to keep the noise to a bare minimum! Absolutely and unintentionally brilliant.
I mentioned that the dog doesn't like my recliner. There's no room for her on it. So she has taken to leaping up on my lap and getting in the way of my laptop. One simply cannot type over a dog. On the subject of accidental brilliance, I sure hope she isn't commenting on my blogging.
Dear?
Yes?
Have you seen my cereal?
Yeah, I moved it to the pantry.
Oh, I guess I should have known that.
---> And this is why I don't go to parties.
In our house, there's a place for everything. And that place changes hourly.
My stomach has taken to letting me know I'm hungry by groaning very loudly, possibly talking to the dog, possibly trying to embarrass me when we're out. Anyway, it had its bit to say this morning, and I went off to the pantry, in search of my cereal. You can tell it's my cereal because it isn't Birthday Cake Flavored Crunchies or Extra Sugar Puffs of Corn, with fruit flavoring. Because over an hour has expired since the conversation on the location of my cereal, it's not in the pantry. Sometimes I expect it, sometimes it's just too much for me and I cry. The doctors tell me this is Not Good. The problem is that in order to re-locate the cereal, I have to locate Wife, who is deeply embedded in some family event or other. It will be near impossible to get her, because once again, the phone is not stapled to her forehead.
It makes me nervous, because sometimes she sends me to fetch something, and I can't find it. In addition to the fact that I'm a man and can't find my own arm hair, it turns out the item she's looking for is not there. So the odds of finding anything she tasks me with are about 17%. I'll nap on railroad tracks and make fun of gang members' penis size, but finding something she asks for scares me to death.
The only reason I had breakfast this morning was finding the new box of Chocolate Frosted Flakes. In the dryer.
And furthermore, the neighbors have been really sneaky, leaving presents on our doorstep. I think they feel they have to give us something, but don't want to knock because there's a 50% chance I'll answer the door. I don't blame them - I don't get out much, and some of them think I eat babies.
On her way out, Mrs. lefty asked me to deliver a few packages to doorsteps. She does it right before she shuts the door so I won't argue. Sneaky, smart little elf she is. I guess leaving present on doorsteps is good for me too, lest I have to talk to someone. But leaving the house will result in throwing off my nap schedule, and I'm not happy about that. She bought the gifts in October, wrapped them up, and made out the cards. Now I have to walk all the way to the next two houses to deliver them? That's unfair division of labor, if you ask me (and no one did).
No comments:
Post a Comment