Sunday, June 29, 2008

My big mouth (what a shock)

So, yesterday we were talking about what we thought should happen to mom's backyard.  You see, over some recent years the flower gardens back there have gotten quite.. hmmm, how should I put this... overwhelmed?  Flowers have become ginormous, and weeds have become weenormous.  I mentioned to her last night that a carpet bomb would do nicely (you know, it would turn the soil and all, let her start from scratch).  While we were proudly giving advice on her flowering techniques (as ours are so wonderful and all... I'm surprised anything out there is still alive.  It's all limping along, if you even call that living), we talked briefly about her "filing" system in the computer room.  It all began when Leslie mentioned...

"I should talk, I'm the world's worst at piling stuff."

Now, before I continue, let me tell you what was going on in my head, because I know you know where this is going.  But before I show you that you indeed know where this is going, and that I know that you know where it's going, I at least want to share a glimpse of my thought process, so even while you are shaking your head while reading this, thinking, "Seriously Pete, do you ever get it?" at least you can see my perspective on things...  Not that it will matter any, mind you, but I figure, why not try?

I have lots of... quirks... Most of them are harmless, but a few are downright annoying, if not more so.  I know them, Leslie knows them, my family knows them, every person who's ever come in contact with me knows them.  So, that being said, there's no REAL reason to go into them here, right?  Good.  I'm working on them, so that should count for something :) So, anyway, I have mine, and Leslie has hers.  I figure at this point in our lives, she's either accepted all my nonsense, or learned to ignore it, or whatever, so everything's good on that side (big assumption - hope springs eternal).  Since her quirks are so minuscule compared to mine, it's been extremely easy not worrying about those.  In fact, I'll veer off a bit and share with you a conversation I had with Chebon in our first year of marriage (no, not with him, with Leslie, but the conversation was with him).  The best part of this little story is that you'll get to see one of my really annoying quirks in there, and how good people have gotten at... working around them:

Ahh, I remember it as if it were yesterday.  I nice Sunday afternoon, back when we both loved Molly (hardly remember that time...), there was no Emily nor Benjamin (very strange to think about that by the way), our Bald Eagle house... hmmm.. that's not right... As I remember it, it was our first year of being married, but that would but us at Natchez.  Oh well, I like the memory better at Bald Eagle, so I'll keep it there.  Anyway, Chebon called me up:

"Hey, what are you up to?"
"I'm folding laundry, and cleaning.  Again."
"You don't sound too thrilled about that."
"Well, to be honest, I'm getting pretty sick of it.  I feel like a lot of what I do around here is just cleaning, picking up, organizing, laundry, whatever."
"Well, that's part of being all growed up with your big boy pants on."
"Yeah, yeah, but I mean I'M doing it. ALONE."
"Really?  I was over there yesterday while Leslie was clean---"
"Never mind that, I'm doing all the cleaning around this place, trying to organize stuff."
"Last week Leslie was organizing the kitch---"
"You're not seeing my point, Chebon.  At least when I put stuff up, I put it up in an organized [OCD - read: unhealthy] manner."
"You mean when I saw Leslie putting away all of your clothes the other da---"
"Okay, I'm done with this conversation."
"Okay, before you hang up, let me offer this to you [this is the part where he's learned to deal with my issues]: You enjoy cleaning, right?"
"Well yeah.  I love it."
"You like organizing stuff, right?"
"Yeah, love that too.  I know that if I come home and the house isn't picked up, to pick it up is almost like therapy to me.  I feel a TON better when I'm done."
"Okay.  Now, ignoring the fact that you BOTH do a lot of the work around here, which you seem to be ignorning right now, let's take this: Leslie doesn't really like to clean all that much (even though she does it), you LOVE cleaning.  Is there really a problem here?"
"..."
"Okay, try this: you HATE to cook.  Leslie doesn't mind it.  You NEVER cook, she always does, but you enjoy cleaning up after. Is there a problem there?"
"..."
"Good.  Talk to you later."
-click-

I loved that conversation.  From then on I've always enjoyed cleaning, because I've realized, well, I love it!  Who cares that she doesn't like it, it just so happens that this works out really well because I love doing something that she doesn't!  Again, never mind the fact that she shares equally the tasks around here, it's just that wonderful wrong perception of mine that fueled those early days. 

"I should talk, I'm the world's worst at piling stuff."
"Well, I wouldn't say the WORST. I mean, you're definitely in the top 10."

Now, work with me here.  I've just explained all that stuff up there about understanding and loving each other for the quirks, so this is harmless.  This is harmless I tell you!

"ha..ha.. Yeah, probably."
"I mean, the laundry room, your cabinets, the office, your side of the bathroom--"
"YEAH." --I missed the hint--
"You're closet, I mean wow!"

Now, before we go on down this merry little path we're going, let me just share with you my complete lack of understanding of where this conversation is at this point.  In my mind, there's nothing wrong with any of those places in our house... As anybody that comes over knows, we keep it pretty darn tidy around here.  I just thought we were being funny, so when we're funny, I always like to excel...

So, I get dropped off at Terry's to watch Ryan while she and Abby go to the Sound Of Music.  Leslie, Emily, and Benjamin all head home for nap time.  I hang out over there for a bit watching Wimbledon, snoozing a little.  When Leslie comes to pick me up, I was hoping she got some rest at home.

"Did you sleep much?"
"Nope."
"Why not, did they keep you up?"
"No, I was cleaning out my closet."

You know those moments in the movies where the entire world seems to spin around the character in a great big whirlwind, as the end is nearing? Yup, I was there.

"What are you talking about? Why did you do that?"
"Well, you know, the top 10 and all."

That's the point in the movie when whatever horrible thing that was about to happen, well, happens.

Now, to put this all in perspective, I don't think any of this yesterday was a huge deal (although, reading through it now that I've put it down puts it in a slightly different light), and Leslie, through my stupidity (again, one of those lovely quirks), I think (hope) knew I meant nothing by it, but I sure did hate hearing that she took some very precious relaxing time to do that.

I'm still amazed at how she puts up with me, on a daily basis.  Those of you that know her know that she is much too good for me.  I remember a whole lot of my quirks evaporating shortly after Emily was born.  It became very clear to me then what truly mattered to me.  As long as Leslie, Emily, and now Benjamin are okay, I can handle just about anything. 

So, I knew you'd enjoy seeing my foot lodged squarly in my mouth with this story, but if you could just help me get it out now :)

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