Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Dust bunnies and other stuff...

Recently the house hunk's hours at work have been cut down to 32/four days a week. He and his work partner made a deal where they have alternating four day weekends. Now any woman who has spent very much time with her significant other underfoot can pretty much figure out what comes next.

The hunk and I have had discussions about my need to work--even if he's home for four days in a row! Day before yesterday he took a notion to clean the bedroom. Now I suppose I should make it clear that the bedroom is his room. His office, his closets, his workshop, etc. All that I do in that room is sleep...and the "usual". My clothing, computers, belongings are all in other rooms. So I really don't have much input about that actual room.

Anyway, he decided to do a deep cleaning and rearranging. It took him most of the day. It was fine. He was entertained and I actually, almost had a chance to write--except for one thing. He had to show me every little pea-pickin' thing he came across that belonged to me.

Chapstick. Dirty sock. Single slipper. Bag of cough drops. You get the idea.

A prudent man would collect everything in one place and then drop them off on my desk. But as we know, few men are prudent. They work in a more linear fashion. So each item necessitated that he interrupt my work to deal with the very important item.

The second problem with his cleaning program was that he piled everything on the bed so he could vacuum. As I mentioned earlier in the week, my life comes to a screeching halt every day because my brain takes a break. Normally I deal with this disconcerting problem by taking a nap. I take a nap on the bed. That very same bed that was piled high with clothes hampers and other junk.

When I don't get my nap, I tend to get cranky from fighting to stay awake and reasonably coherent. By six o'clock, I was exceedingly cranky. You may imagine my reaction when he announced that he was done with the bedroom and would like to discuss which room he would begin on next.

Fortunately, he went back to work yesterday. Otherwise I might have had to bury him in the back yard. That would have been tough. It was raining all day and there was about three inches of water in our backyard "lake". Most inconvenient.

As a precaution, I drew up a "honey-do" list for the next time he's home. I figure if he's short-listed for another month that the house will be spotless.



Mia Watts said...

Would certainly have to kill him. Why do men require constant approval?

Julia Barrett said...

Funny! Funny! Funny! LOL way to start the day!

Nina Pierce said...

OMG! By the time I got to the end I was rolling on the floor Anny. Thanks so much for the great laugh. Oh, I'm supposed to feel bad that hubby is underfoot? Frankly ... I can't wait until the next installment. LOL!

jean hart stewart said...

I commend your self-control. Glad you didn't kill him, that gets messy. Jean

Regina Carlysle said...

I agree with Jean. Messy!

Fran Lee's Romance Blog said...

Oh, yeah, Anny! And next time you leave your chapstick under that bed, tell him it's a pocket rocket and that it died from overuse. He won't cover your bed with junk after that...he'll be walkin' around flexing and hoping you'll notice his new muscle. ;)

Marianne Stephens said...

Love your blog. My husband recently got laid-off and is home everyday. I don't know what day of the week it is anymore! He comes into my office periodically to see what I'm doing. Damn...I'm trying to write!!! Bless him, he's trying to do things around the house, too. Gotta love 'em, don't we?