wrinkly old pointless crap.

I have a real knack for pissing people off. I don't do it on purpose, at least not usually. I'm just not very good with the whole "putting words together and having them make sense" thing.

I know it might be hard to believe. I'm no John Stenbeck, but I am pretty good at mixing up words and calling them English, when I'm typing or writing. But when it comes to verbal speech? Oh man, do I suck.

One time, The Hub was attacking me with his unshaven face. Among my many quirks, I cannot stand funky textures, and a four day old beard qualifies as a funky texture. He thinks its just hilarious to make my skin crawl, so he was coming at me, going "rarrarrararrar," trying to get me with his prickliness.

I tried to say "knock it off." What I actually said, though, was:

"Get your wrinkly old face away from me."


Now, let me tell you that The Hub is neither wrinkly, nor old. He's thirty-two, which is not old. And he's quite handsome, even with a bunch of scratchy stuff on his face. I'm not entirely sure where I came up with wrinkly and old, but I do know that it made him back off, and then he laughed hysterically, and now he reminds me how wrinkly and old he is on a regular basis.


So as you know, there's two more days until Christmas, and I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off. "I have SO MUCH TO DO IN TWO DAYS!!!" I screamed at The Hub, when he asked why I was making cinnamon ornaments without pants on.

"Yeah, I know," he replied.

I need to explain something here. My wonderful, loving, exceptional, fantastic husband has OCD to the freaking extreme, and since he has been off work (a whole five days,) he has cleaned every nook and cranny of our house. Everything, and it is not the blessing you might think it is. Everything I own has been put in it's proper place, except it's been out of place for so long that I have no idea where the proper place is, exactly.

So when he said "yeah, I know," he was essentially saying that he, too, had tons of stuff to do for Christmas. And what I wanted to say was, "You should have done your Christmas stuff first, before alphabetically organizing my bookshelf."

Instead, I said "What about all your pointless crap?"

It totally did not go over well. He kind of stomped away, and when I got back from the store an hour or so later, he was mopping the floor. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing. Just some pointless crap," he said.

I nursed the baby, then sat down to email some friends. He came into the living room and started windexing my monitor. "What are you doing?" I asked, annoyed.
"Just carrying on with my pointless crap."

The Babe decided that would be a great time to have an explosive mustard poo, and as I was changing him, I asked The Hub for a diaper.
"Just as soon as I'm done with this pointless crap, dear," he called.

I changed the diaper and looked around for a clean washcloth, so I could wash The Babe's face. I think everyone likes a good facewashing now and then, but I couldn't find a clean washcloth because somebody decided to put away all the clean laundry. The clean laundry has been sitting in a basket for like a week and a half, but aparently one more hour next to the pack-n-play was going to kill it.

"HEY!" I yelled. "Where's the damn washcloths I put in here?"

The Hub popped his head around the corner. "I put them away."

"Fine," I said. "Then will you stop doing your pointless crap, and take your wrinkly old face into the bedroom and get me a baby washcloth?"

We haven't really said much to each other since then.