Perhaps I've mentioned how Farmer H thinks everything belongs to him. And some things belong SOLELY to him. The Pony and I, however, cannot lay claim to personal items. They are community property. Like the milk The Pony bought for his morning cereal, a kind Farmer H doesn't like, but took offense to being "appreciated" in advance for not using it. But Farmer H has the blog off today.
"Pony. Every morning, I find a smudge on my glasses that I've left on the counter. Do you pick them up when you get your lottery ticket?"
"No. I don't have to touch the glasses, although you put my ticket on their case."
"It wouldn't surprise me if Dad is putting on my glasses to look at something! He's always over here using my counter."
"Technically, it's not YOUR counter."
"Yes it is! It's the place I always use, and then I find crumbs and grease spots on it."
"We don't really have ANOTHER counter."
"Yes we do. By the sink. And there's the whole cutting block. I don't know why Dad... AND you, feel the need to use my specific area."
"Meh. It's just convenient."
"And then I let you use my pen, I've told you where to find it, I don't MIND you using it, but you put it back all closed up!"
"Oh. You want me to leave it clicked out? I thought that was only the purple pen in the side of your purse, and not the black pen from your checkbook."
"I want them BOTH left clicked out. I hate grabbing my pen to write something, and it won't right because it's clicked in."
"Okay. I'll leave it clicked out."
"Just leave it the way you find it."
Simple, right? Simple instructions to understand. You may recall that The Pony needed to use New Delly on Tuesday night. He fell asleep, but came down Wednesday morning. I don't mind him using New Delly. I had made the copies he needed (two sets, 9 pages per set), and left them on my desk beside the mouse, with my ink pen in case he wanted to fill them out there while waiting for his typed-in document to print.
It's not a special ink pen. I've had it for at least five years, maybe ten. I used it for addressing Genius's envelope for his weekly letter, and to write on the back of my scratchers how much they won.
Yet when I entered my lair later that afternoon, my pen (I'd call him PENNY, but that seems wrong) did not look like he does in his posed picture.
THE CAP WAS ON MY PEN!
I don't mean to go all Nancy Kerrigan, but WHYYYYYYY? Why does Not-Penny need the cap on to rest on the edge of a stack of past years' tax folders? When I want a pen, I don't want to use two hands to make it write-ready. I want to pick it up and write with it. What could go wrong by leaving the cap off? Is Not-Penny going to skate around marking up my desk and papers while left alone, uncapped? I don't think so.
Isn't it common courtesy to leave things as you found them? And not foist your peccadilloes on someone else's rightful possessions?