Ach! The weather! It has driven Farmer H inside the Mansion. He is present during the hours before I retire to my dark basement lair. We do not peacefully co-exist. He's all up in my business, talking about his business. Kicked back in the La-Z-Boy while telling me that I'd probably feel better if I got up and did something. While I'm wrapping gifts and running to the kitchen every 15 minutes for two hours, stirring the precious yet needy Chex Mix!
Yes, the Mansion has been a whirlwind of activity. A two-day trip to fetch The Pony is coming up, and a visit with my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel. Then Genius flies in from Pittsburgh on Saturday (sheesh, you would think he could just take an OOBER), and would like to have Christmas dinner that evening. Not to mention the icy icing that Hillmomba is receiving right now, Saturday through Monday.
Anyhoo...on Sunday, I finished up the current batch of Chex (#2 of 4) at 1:15, and said I was dashing to town ahead of the ice, to grab some Christmas scratchers, my own scratchers, and a 44 oz Diet Coke. That's when the snit hit the man.
"While you're gone, I'll wrap some presents."
"You already said you didn't want to wrap presents."
"Yeah. I'd much rather you do them, like you have been. But I have a lot more of them downstairs for the kids." [HOS's two and The Veteran's two]
Let the record show that I was aware of this continuing accrual of gifts, having awakened to find the ONLY seat open on the long couch where I could sit for wrapping presents on the coffee table was FILLED WITH A GIANT BOX CONTAINING TWO STUFFED UNICORNS.
"Oh. So...you're going to bring them up? Don't mess with my stuff I have laid out!"
"I knew you'd be like that! I'll just wrap them downstairs."
"So you're going to carry the paper down there?"
"No. There's still paper down there. I'll just take a roll of your tape. And some name tags."
I had six rolls of tape. So that was not an issue, even though you'd think that if there was paper left from last year, there would also be the tape with it. As well as name tags.
"What about a pen?"
"I'm pretty sure there's one down there."
"You can never find a pen! Stay out of my office! And if you take this one, bring it back up. And DON'T USE MY SCISSORS!"
"There'll be scissors down there."
"No. Every year, I lose another pair! Stay out of my office. Don't be looking for my scissors!"
"I'll find some."
No wonder I developed a giant headache before I returned from town. Every time Farmer H helps me, it stresses me out. I reached into the silverware drawer for my kitchen shears, to open the end of a packet of my Cherry Limeade powder to add to my magical elixir.
WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN???
My kitchen shears were turned the wrong way! I never put them back in the drawer like that! Of course Farmer H had used them! I made a mental note to speak with him. "Um...is there anything you want to tell me about my scissors?" Just to see what story he would come up with during his denial, before pouncing on him with the evidence.
I must be losing my touch. Because while sitting on the short couch listening to how he'd bought a gun that morning, and had already gotten a verbal offer on it for tomorrow...I said,
"Did you use my scissors?"
So taken aback was Farmer H, by the direct question, that he answered right away, without fishing for an alibi.
"Just the kitchen ones."
"I told you NOT TO USE MY SCISSORS! I KNEW IT! They were put back the wrong way."
"I didn't hurt anything. I use them all the time."
"For WHAT? The last pair, you and Genius used for cutting aluminum cans and copper wire and dog fur. And for something that left gunk on them that wouldn't even wash off, and they wouldn't cut any more. Leave my scissors alone!"
"Well what am I supposed to use to wrap gifts?"
"EVERY YEAR, I give up a pair of scissors for that, and they're never seen again! In fact, that's what I asked for last year for Christmas. I got those two pair. One is laying on the table with the TV remote."
"Okay. I'll use that pair."
How is that fair? AND, I didn't even get the satisfaction of a story full of holes to catch him in for the scissor theft-and-return.
5 comments:
I hate it when he uses any of my scissors! It is true that I have quite a few, but each pair has a specific use and I don't like it when he uses them for whatever! I swear he has used my good fabric cutting scissors to cut fence wire!!
Kathy,
Mine are not for special uses. They're just for USE. So many have disappeared that I swear the next owner of the house will find them under a loose floorboard, next to all the calculators and rulers and kiddie scissors the boys seemed to lose every year.
Fabric scissors for cutting fence wire? I'd be shocked if HeWho HADN'T used them for such a chore.
I'm the only one here, so no one uses my scissors but me, unless Lola sneaks around in the night cutting off clumps of hair to leave everywhere. but I understand what you are going through. I once had a houseful of kids and a husband. The kids were pretty good about not touching stuff I'd vetoed, but I had to hide things from the hubby. That man used to sell stuff to the pawn shop for beer/betting money. I blew up at him the year he sold the kids bikes and tried to tell me they'd been stolen.
Perhaps you need to buy a junk pair from the Dollar Store and attach them--via a piece of yarn looped around his neck--so he has a pair?
River,
It would be hard to hide the bikes! I stash some things away, but walked in on Farmer H using my VERY SPECIAL SPOON the other day. He said it's like any other spoon. So he should USE any other spoon. Not mine that's different from the set, with a pointier end. It was on the bottom of the spoon stack in the silverware tray. How he dug down and got it I don't know.
***
Sioux,
I need to attach them with a wooden yoke. Just to make an uncomfortable reminder that this is what he gets for messing with my stuff. He used my CHRISTMAS scissors to wrap yesterday, and didn't put them back. I found out when I reached for them to cut open some money cards I was preparing to stuff with cash.
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