So I’m driving home… I’m both fuming and mystified. I am mystified at the COMPLETE incapacity for the Taco Bell by my house to get ANY order of mine right. I don’t frequent this place often… however, once in a while their Zesty Chicken Bowl sounds good. Today was such a day.
I’ll save you the terrible details; I’m fuming because I just can’t believe I didn’t check the bag… AGAIN! No doubt another month will pass and I’ll try again.
As I pull in the driveway, and open the garage door, Old Crow is dashing (to the extent she can) across the garage with a broom. She starts sweeping the floor… exactly where I want to park. It’s like she was waiting… “He’s home… I’ll sweep now”! Little did I know she was making a point.
Yes, it has occurred to me that she wasn’t planning on me coming home right then and wanted to sweep out the garage
I’m sitting in my car… watching this old lady sweep the garage floor, as I am deep breathing and trying to find a happy place… any happy place. She finishes, and I start a little self-talk while I’m gathering some stuff from the car and my INCOMPLETE, YET PAID FOR lunch order.
“It’s not her fault she’s crazy.”
“Just let it go… she won’t listen anyway.”
“Grin and bear it.”
“Smile and walk passed her.”
I have lunch, GRE study materials, the mail, my phone (and accessories) and a big coke in my hands, not to mention my keys to open the door.
The Crow says to me, “So, you guys don’t have time to sweep the garage”?
Side Note 1: She has NEVER ask me to sweep the garage.
Side Note 2: I mentioned in my introduction of Old Crow that she presses ‘mother buttons’ of mine that my mom doesn’t push. Passivity is one of my big buttons. If you want something, ASK ME DIRECTLY! If you knock on my back door, I reserve the right to ignore you.
When I hear someone knocking on my back door, sometimes I’ll play a little game with myself and try to get them to ask for what they want… like so:
The Crow says to me: “So, you guys don’t have time to sweep the garage”?
Deflated, because I almost made it to the door before she sucked me in, I reply: “It’s not a matter of time.”
She responds: “Oh, you don’t want to sweep the garage floor.”
Me: “Well… no. Would you like us too”? (Invitation for her to ask me)
(Pause in conversation… she is focused on the floor: sweeping)
Her with a hanging tone: “No…” (Invitation declined)
(Another pause in conversation. I see my opportunity to escape and I turn toward the door)
Her: “You guys dirty it too… going in and out.”
(So… she wants me to want to sweep the floor, and expects that I will take the initiative to sweep the floor, but she flat-out refuses to ask to sweep the floor.)
Standing there, I think to myself, “Right now, I literally can’t think of anything that is LESS important to me. Given a little time… maybe, but right now… nada.
Painting my toenails… more important than sweeping the garage floor.
Painting Wife’s toenails… more important.
Painting the cat’s toenails… more important.
Cleaning the goop off the liquid dishwashing soap bottle… more important.
Picking my nose… more important. Disposing the booger properly… more important.
Non-focused-thousand-yard staring out the window, until my eyes dry out… more important.
At this point, I lose the little patience I have for shit like this.
With my teeth clinched, and in my most mordant tone, I muster: “I’ll try to remember.”
For me, this is another way (using INDIRECT communication) of saying:
“When miniature, bald monkeys fly out of my ass, and bite George W. on the ankles.”
3 comments:
Well. As long as you've got your priorities straight.
*snicker*
and what, exactly, is the point of sweeping a garage? kind of like making a bed, i suppose. all presentation and no purpose.
bring on the mini monkies! may they fly out of orifices and chomp on joints.
NO SHIT! My point exactly!
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