It's rather irritating to be married to me
It’s rather irritating to be married to me.
I’ve learned to accept it, but I’m not sure that Shawn has. I often feel his expectations of me exceed my actual performance as a wife.
The other day, he walked into the kitchen while I was cooking lunch.
“Where's the jeep key?”
Awww the Jeep key. It is an elusive little thing. I lose it no less than ten times per day.
That’s why it was cute how he just walked into the kitchen and expected me to know where it was. So I just took a hopeful guess.
“In my Adidas hoodie.”
I heard his footsteps disappearing down the hall, and after a short pause they started coming back up.
“Where is your Adidas hoodie?”
I stopped mid-stir in the skillet and thought for a moment..
“I am pretty sure it is laying on the laundry room floor. It might be kicked underneath the shelf in there.”
He sighed and walked behind me to the laundry room.
“Sweatshirt's not in here!”
“Did you look under the shelf?”
“Did you look under the dryer?”
“There is no under the dryer!”
He stood in the doorway.
“You know that’s our only key, right? If we don’t have it then we just can’t drive the car.”
“Because that one time...”
“Yes. I know,” I interrupted.
There are some things in a marriage you just don’t want to dwell on - like the time Shawn bought me dental work for my birthday.
There was also the time, after locking myself out, I put the spare key on top of the Jeep and then drove away with it still on there. It was never seen again. And thanks to the wonder of modern technology, the key will be several hundred dollars to replace - which we haven’t done yet.
Carefully laying my spatula down on top of the skillet, I sprinkled garlic on the meat and looked at him.
“Okay. Well, I bet the sweatshirt is upstairs in our room.”
He continued with irritated footsteps and unidentifiable muttering under his breath.
“Key is not there!” he called down the stairs.
Crap. It had to be somewhere. I wracked my brain for places I might have stuck it.
“Oh, I know! Look in my pants from yesterday!”
He appeared in the kitchen again like he was on some kind of exhaustive scavenger hunt - which he was. The only problem was that I really didn’t even know where the key was, I was just making guesses and hoping for the best. If I weren’t in the middle of making lunch then I would have just wandered the house looking for the key alone and without judgement.
”Where are your pants from yesterday?”
I cleared my throat.
“Well, they are scrunched up at the end of our bed into two little feet holes.”
Off he went. He didn't really say anything. Moments later his footsteps went from irritated to outright angry. They started down the stairs and stopped midway to yell.
“THOSE PANTS DON'T EVEN HAVE POCKETS!”
“Oh. That’s right. I forgot.”
“JEEEEEP KEY! Where's it at? Where is the Jeep key?”
Finally, I got the casserole into the oven.
“Hold on. I’m coming to look.”
And then - just as I put a few dishes into the sink - something caught my eye directly beside me.
“Oh here it is! I found it! It was right beside me the whole time!”
I found this rather hilarious and was already constructing a post for Facebook when he stomped up next to me, grabbed the key, and sarcastically thanked me.
That’s marriage for you.
We vow our lives to one another in a perfectly planned ceremony, only to enter an imperfect union that rarely follows any kind of plan other than God’s who continually proves to have a sense of humor.
And that’s why if you’re going to get married, you better have a sense of humor too. Most of the time, Shawn and I get a lot of laughter out of our quirks, but I don’t think he found this one as funny as I did.
In fact, at that moment, he just might have been thinking that it’s rather irritating to be married to me.
See - I told you.