Farmer H has taken a week off from work. He does that at the drop of a hat, you know. But he IS planning to retire in December, so maybe he just wants to use up his vacation days early.
Of course, since we will be leaving in a few days to follow The Pony to Oklahoma and get him moved into the dorm...Farmer H chose this morning to drive to visit the #1 son in College Town. Uh huh. An 8-hour drive on the horizon, so Farmer H chooses to drive two hours there and two hours back today. For no reason.
Sure, he SAID it was to drop off an electrical contraption that #1 had asked us to bring on our way through. But he also took #1 out to lunch, TO THE PLACE I HAD TOLD #1 WE'D GO WHEN WE STOP BY THERE ON SATURDAY! That is just rude. Poaching #1's company and culinary destination. Raining on my parade. Making my upcoming visit an afterthought. Making ME the lesser (cinnamon) babka.
But here's where The Tyrant overstepped his bounds. He called me out for doing laundry! Have you ever heard of such a thing? I had just told The Pony to try on his new school clothes, because we were going to take the tags off and wash them and get them all ready to pack. Because The Tyrant had also arisen this morning, SUNDAY, and asked, "Is he packed?" Seriously. We are leaving Wednesday. What's the deal?
Anyhoo...after hearing me say I was washing up The Pony's clothes, The Tyrant made a pointed jab. "Well, I hope you'll be done by the time I get back, because I NEED TO DO LAUNDRY!"
Let the record show that Farmer H made this decision long ago. Right after we got married. That rather than put his dirty clothes in the hamper, he would leave them on the bedroom floor, and pick them up and wash them himself. Heh, heh. Not a long, thought-out decision. But one made in a fit of pique on the spur of the moment, because the woman who was about to wash, dry, fold, and put away his clothing for the rest of his life dared to ask him to put those clothes in the hamper after wearing.
The Pony filled me in later about the current laundry. "Yeah, Mom. He was going to wash clothes yesterday, but you had that load in there. And he got mad."
"Let me get this straight. I have done ONE load of laundry in seven days. ONE. And it was yesterday. So that's the time your dad picked to do HIS laundry, that he only does about once a month?"
"Uh huh. He was mad because they were in the washer."
"They only had to be moved to the dryer, and he could have used it."
"He didn't."
The Tyrant only wants what I have, or wants to do what I want to do, WHEN I am doing it. Or before. Like the lunch with #1 today.
Retirement is going to be a rocky road.
3 comments:
"Oh, unfortunately, there is going to be more fun like this, once December hits," she said, with gallons of glee sloshing out of her words.
I can sympathize with you. The person who insists on undressing in the living room and leaving his dirty clothes IN his chair for me to pick up says that my shoes annoy him. My shoes, strategically located for ease of slipping into and out of, that do not even require a detour on his part annoy him.
Sioux,
If only I could share my pockets full of FUNshine with you, Madam!
***
Kathy,
How dare you to even have feet!
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