Marriage’s Great Deceptions
On behalf of Mile High Mamas, welcome back!
After a wonderful, relaxing Christmas “it” occurred on December 26th – the day I confirmed that maybe I am not losing my mind. And for anyone who has ever been there, lost that, you know exactly what I mean.
My favorite cookie sheet has been missing for months. A sturdy, heavy-duty hunk of metal that has been the conduit through which I have brought many calorie-filled wonders into being. And into my being.
I have greatly mourned its loss. My husband Jamie has known about my devastation. I even debated buying a new cookie sheet whilst in the throes of all my holiday baking but held off because I just couldn’t bear the thought of replacing it.
In the past, a favorite practice of mine was dumping a gallon of drinking water on my lap whilst driving. Until Jamie bought me a glorious CamelBak water bottle, which, in my many years of water-bottle dumpage, is the only one that has never leaked.
Our affair was glorious. Each morning as I drove the kids around town, I lovingly sucked my malleable mouthpiece and never once did even a drop of water escape.
Until I lost the straw.
For those unfamiliar with the CamelBak waterbottle, the straw is to the bottle as the husband is to deception.
Confused? Keep reading.
Fast forward to December 26th. Our Christmas tree had been dead for weeks and I could not bear to look at it for another moment. Despite the fact that I had a killer sinus infection and a house littered with new toys, THE TREE HAD TO COME DOWN (you know what I mean if you’ve ever had those moments).
After the last light strand was unstrung and the last ornament unceremoniously dumped in a bag with the promise of future organization, Jamie removed the tree. He went to dump the water out of the tree stand when he stopped. And he called out:
“Hey, Amber. Remember that straw you’ve been missing?”
“It would seem that maybe I might have kind of well, you know possibly used your CamelBak to water the tree and maybe just possibly your straw might have fallen into the tree stand.”
My beloved straw. Drowning in tree sap all these weeks. No wonder there was a death. (Of the tree that is; Jamie’s future is yet to be determined.)
Remember the sinus infection? Later that day, I was down in The Dungeon of Despair attempting to locate the lifetime supply of tissue boxes I recently purchased from Costco. I didn’t find the tissues but when I gazed up, up, up to the top of our storage shelves, I caught a glimpse of a glimmering beacon. A beacon that distinctly resembled my beloved hunk of metal.
I joyfully reached up, only to discover displaced pumpkin seeds reposing on my cookie sheet. Or rather, intentionally placed pumpkin seeds BY MY AWARD-WINNING, PUMPKIN-OBSESSED HUSBAND WHO KNOWS I HAVE BEEN PULLING MY HAIR OUT FOR MONTHS ABOUT THIS DISAPPEARANCE.
And yes, there just may have been the first reported case of Abuse By Pumpkin Seeds had he not promptly (and wisely) removed them.
The only good thing that came out of my findings of December 26th is that I assuredly, certifiably am not losing my mind.
P.S. Now, if I could just find Jamie’s lost Christmas present….