The Sock Troll

I just realized that the last day of my blog challenge asked three good things that happened, not three things that I learned. So I’m re-answering.

  • The Royal Wedding, obviously. I’ll try to stop talking about it now.
  • First weekend at the cabin!
  • I moved from Blurty to WordPress, and I feel it’s been a change for the better.

And now for a slice of my life. My boring life.

Darren can be kind of a slob. Isn’t that a common complaint? He neglects to clean up after himself, almost always. It’s not uncommon to find several days worth of socks around our very small living room – on the couch, on the floor, in the couch – and elsewhere. I once found a pair of his unders wedged between the bed and the wall. Who knows how long those had been there. He’s like some kind of freaky little sock troll. O r underwear troll.

The thing is, he only works three days a week right now. You’d think he would be willing to do a little around the apartment those other two days. Well, actually he’s totally willing, but if I don’t ask him to do something, he probably won’t. A lot of the time when I do ask, he puts it off. The other day I asked him to wash the dishes. There weren’t many and they were all his anyway, and he agreed. When I arrived home six hours later, the first thing he said was “I’ll do the dishes in a minute.”

I laughed. He washed them. Now if I could get him to clean all his junk off the coffee table when he’s done with it, that would rule.

It just rarely occurs to him that the stuff he leaves around is actually contributing to a mess and we’d all feel a little better if we put stuff where it belongs.

I love my husband dearly, but dang if he isn’t just a big ol’ sloth (soft and fluffy). He’s also a hindrance in my closet-purging efforts, but that’s another story for another day. Or probably not, because it’s not very interesting. As if this was.

Reason #45465 why I don’t want children. Nothing would ever get done and I would lose my shit. You know the episode of The Simpsons wherein they hire a nanny (Sherry Bobbins!) because Marge is freaking out and losing hair due to stress? I would be Marge.


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