Newlywedded

Too good for TP

It's no secret that men aren't good at replacing the roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. We've watched this scene in movies and there probably isn't one couple in the history of, well, toilet paper, that hasn't had an argument that goes something like this...

WIFE: "Damnit! Why can't you just PUT THE TOILET PAPER BACK ONE THE ROLL! What the f*^&%^ is wrong with you????????!!!!!!!!!

HUSBAND: Why can't YOU do it?!

WIFE: Why can't YOU do it?!

And so these arguments are heard 'round the world, except, of course, if you live in my house. In my house, we have a different issue.

So, there I am, sitting on the toilet, minding my own business...catching up on US magazine's hard news...Rihanna's stupid, Jennifer Aniston's got a hot body, that girl from Slumdog Millionaire is gorgeous, there's no toilet paper, THERE'S NO TOILET PAPER??!!!

ME: "Babe!"

MIKE: "Yeah?!"

ME: "There's no toilet paper!"

MIKE: "OK..."

OK? What do you mean OK? Like, OK, what do you want me to do about it? Or, OK, I'll go get some? Or OK, why does it matter? What's OK?

ME: "What do you mean...OK? I need toilet paper!"

Mike whips open the door--PS-this is one of the most lovely aspects of married life-the fact that we can all just chat with each other while we're on the toilet. I try to avoid this practice but my husband seems completely fine with breaking the "fourth wall" so to speak.

MIKE: "There's none left."

ME: "What are you talking about?"

MIKE: "There isn't any toilet paper left."

ME: "I don't understand."

MIKE: "There...isn't...any..."

ME: "I'm not a moron, OK? I understand that there's no toilet paper but I can't understand how that happened. We just went to the market!"

BTW: Please DO NOT forget that, at this point, I'm still chilling on my porcelain throne, pants at my ankles, ready for this party to end.

ME: "If you knew there was no more toilet paper, why didn't you just get more?"

MIKE: "Because I don't use toilet paper."

ME: "What are you talking about? Who doesn't use toilet paper? Everyone uses toilet paper."

MIKE: "Well, I don't."

ME: "Since I'm pretty sure you don't use your hands, what, pray tell, do you use?"

MIKE: "Wipes."

I look next to our toilet to face what has now become my greatest obstacle to proper bathroom hygiene--THE BOX OF COTTONELLE BABY WIPES WITH THE CUTE LABRADOR PUPPY PICTURED ON THE PACKAGING. I forgot--my husband is a baby...literally. He needs special wipes for his ass...he loves these wipes so much that he's forsaken a daily necessity. He's too good for toilet paper and now we all have to suffer. 

ME: "You don't ever use toilet paper. Ever?"

MIKE: "Never."

ME: "What if we're on vacation and we're staying at a hotel?"

MIKE: "I bring my own wipes."

ME: "What if you're in a "situation" and you're not at home and you're not at a hotel and you're in a restaurant or someone's house..."

MIKE: "Not gonna happen. I don't "go" at restaurants..."

ME: "Never? What if it's an emergency?"

MIKE: "I don't "go" in public places. I wait 'til I get home or 'til I can make it to a friend's house."

ME: "Wow. That's a lot of trouble to go to...and, I'm assuming the friends..."

MIKE: "Yup...they ALL have wipes."

ME: "Of course they do. You've got it all figured out.

He smiles.

MIKE: "Yes I do."

ME: "But what about me?"

He gestures to the box of wipes.

ME: "I'm doing this just once. ONCE. And then, there'd better be a GIANT COSTCO sized pack of toilet paper."

MIKE: "Fine. But you should really use the wipes..."

ME: "I'm not a newborn baby. I don't need wipes."

MIKE: "Neither am I."

I shoot him a "look"

MIKE: "OK, so maybe I am."

ME: "Would you mind leaving your wipes and me alone for a minute? We have some business to take care of."

MIKE: "No problem."

You Gotta Have a Gimmick

For those of you who are fans of this blog, you'll remember an entry I wrote a while back in which I discussed a new method I'd developed to get my husband to do things around the house. I'd simply say, "You WILL empty the dishwasher" in a hypnotic tone and he'd robotically reply, "OK" and he'd march into the kitchen and empty the dishwasher. Well, guess what? My tactic, which has, no joke, pretty much worked flawlessly for the past few months, is faltering. Uggh.

A few days ago, Mike left the country on business and I was desperately trying to get him to prepare for his departure EARLY. His office was a mess, bills hadn't been paid...bottom line? He had nag worthy, annoying, time wasting, irritating shit to do. He knew it and I knew it. 

ME: "Honey? Can you call the accountant before you leave on Thursday?"

MIKE: "Yes."

Two days later...

ME: "Babe, what'd the accountant say?"

MIKE: "What?"

ME: "What did the accountant say?"

MIKE: "What are you talking about?"

Now I'm gritting my teeth...

ME: "I aaaaaasked you three days ago to call the accountant."

MIKE: "I don't remember that but OK."

When he said this, I think I actually heard the cartoon-esque sound of tires screeeeching to a halt.

ME: "What do you mean you don't remember?"

MIKE: "You NEVER asked me to do that, but OK, I'll do it."

Either this is early onset Alzheimer's or he's got a gimmick and I'm in REAL trouble. 

I figured this had to be a fluke...I mean, there could seriously be a chance that he doesn't remember, right? I forget things all of the time...actually, let's be real, I'm a wife, I don't forget. Maybe husbands forget...Mike once told me that men only listen to about 20% of what women actually say so maybe he didn't hear me. 

ME: "Honey, before you leave, don't forget to take that stuff out to the garage."

MIKE: "Sure, no problem."

A few hours later.

ME: "Honey, you said you'd take that stuff out to the garage!"

MIKE: "No I didn't."

ME: "OK, it was four hours ago. I asked you to PLEASE take that CRAP out to the F-ING GARAGE and you looked straight into my eyes and said, 'NO PROBLEM'!"

MIKE: "I don't remember that but OK."

I DON'T REMEMBER THAT BUT OK. This is a man's version of  trying to mess with his wife. OK fine. I'll give him that. I did try to hypnotize him by using the phrase 'YOU WILLLLLLLLL fold the laundry' and he didn't flinch and neither...will...I. TWO CAN PLAY AT THIS GAME. 

A few days later, with a cloying smile and buttery tone...

ME: "Sweeeetie?"

MIKE: "Hmmm?"

ME: "I don't know if you remember this, and it's TOTALLY OK if you don't, but I was just wondering if you could call the dog walker before you go."

He was just about to chirp, "No problem" (code for: don't even waste your breath because in three and a half minutes I'm going to be hit with a severe case of dementia and while it may not be severe enough to send me to the bank with no pants on, it will certainly make me "forget" absolutely everything you've ever asked me to do. You can bet on that).

ME: "Oh...wait..honey?"

MIKE: "Yeah?"

ME: "I just figured since you're so busy it'd be better for me to write some of these things down, so I made a list."

I think I actually saw, "GRRRRR," spray across his forehead.

I handed him the list. 

MIKE: "Thanks..."

ME: "No problem."