By Bernie on 18 Oct 2012
The other day my wife spotted a cellphone on our coffee-table and asked me if I knew who left it there. I don't pay attention to trivial things like this and so responded with my standard reply: "I have no idea," and then added, "But I'm sure that whoever left it there will come back to look for it."
Allow me to mention that there are nine of us living in the same house (see my article Throwing the Rest of Mom Away), so there are people coming and going through rooms all day long.
But leaving things alone is just not in my wife's DNA. She must have picked up the cellphone and put it somewhere but since I was busy on the computer I didn't see her move it. Within a few minutes my grand-daughter (age 13) came in and asked me if I saw her cellphone, she thought she left it on the coffee-table. I rolled my eyes toward our bedroom where my wife was busy going over the family checkbook. My grand-daughter sighed and shouted out: "Goggi, where'd you put my phone?" My wife told her that it was on the top of the dresser.
When my wife came back into the living room I mentioned that if she had simply left everything alone I wouldn't be interrupted so often while I'm trying to blog. "Well, it's not like you're doing anything important," she remarked.
If I Don't Use it- I lose it.
Let me give another example: I get a cup out and put it on the kitchen table while I go to the fridge to get some milk. When I look for the cup, it's gone. "Honey," I ask (although I already know the answer), "did you see a cup I had on the table?" She tells me that she washed it and put it on the dish drain. For my poor confused reader who may wonder why she would wash my cup when I was about to use it - another simple answer: she can't leave things alone. If my fingers aren't engaged in a death-grip around an object, it gets put away.
Flickr User: Lady May Pamintuan
One final example: a few years ago, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, there were sounds of a brawl outside our bedroom window. We both got out of bed to see what the ruckus was about. It turned out that two drunks were on the ground trying to fight each. After a few minutes they both dozed off to sleep. This doesn't happen too often in my town, so I called the police and they came by and carted the drunks off.
When I tried to get back to sleep I noticed that my wife had made the bed up. I asked her why she did that. Her reply? "No one was in it."
A few months after publishing this article I went into more detail about my wife and her bed fetish: My Wife Likes Bed Clutter.
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