Eleven years and four children later and Husband has a pretty good handle on MOST things. He cooks, he helps with laundry, he has no qualms about changing shitty diapers, he even takes no issue with handling all the kids so that I can have a weekly wine night with the girls. All in all, he is pretty awesome, HOWEVER, at least once a week, sometimes more, I am dumbfounded at some the tasks that he seems to find so daunting or impossible or even downright mistifying.
The other day, it had been raining throughout the day and I had gone to the nail salon to get a much-needed pedicure while Husband stayed home with Number Three and Number Four. About half way through the pedicure, my phone rings. I answer Husband’s call and he asks if I am going to be home before the kids get out of school in 20 minutes. I tell him that I will not be finished before then. He says, “well, the kids can’t walk home in the rain so we need to pick them up.”
“Okay, pick them up”, I tell him.
“Well, I have Number Three and Number Four with me”, was his response.
Him: “You want me to just take them with me?
Me: “Well, yeah. You know they are portable. You can take them almost anywhere!”
Him: “Uhhhh. Ummmmm.”
Me: “Those fancy seats in the back seats of the van with all the buckles are for them. Just buckle them in and then drive the 20 yards to the end of our street to pick up Number One and Number Two and come right back home.”
Him (sounding confused): “Um, okay.”
Evidently, Husband has been under the misguided notion that I have been running this operation with a secret nanny or a team of magical fairies to manage accomplishing errands like grocery shopping with our litter of kids.
A secret nanny would be nice, come to think of it. Actually, I would rather have a secret laundry doer.
I see this subject becoming a series–stay tuned.