Wednesday, January 28, 2009

At Sherwin Williams: Part II

My husband returned home from work the next day, having stopped off for paint as promised to finish the bedroom. As is typical, he entered the house amidst the clamor of children coloring, banging pots, and creating a human/toy obstacle course in the kitchen for their mother to brave while trying to put something that looks like food on the table.

Chaos, as usual, but always greeted with hugs and kisses and a sigh of relief from one of the older greeters.

Dinner unfolded in its usual fashion as well, with talk turning to the day's events and plans for the next. It was during clean-up when things got interesting.

John: So, I couldn't remember the type of paint we had and so I had the guy look it up.

Christine: Uh huh (half listening)

John: And, yeah, so he pulled up our computer file and said, "Oh, yeah, it says you were just in for Lounge Green."

Christine: Uh huh, Joseph stop standing on the kitchen table.

John: So I said to him, "No, that was my wife who bought that paint."

Christine: Yeah, Olivia, did you hide chicken in your napkin???

John: And he says to me, "Oh, that was your wife."

Christine: What? (nervous giggle accompanied by a smirk).

John: You heard me. Why are you smiling?

Christine: Am I smiling? No, it's just, I don't know (I giggle again as I twirl to the trashcan to deposit a chicken filled napkin before sashaying to the table to retrieve my sweet son who was reaching for the light fixture).

John: What's wrong with you? (staring intently)

Christine: Who me? (again, another giggle and a flip of the hair) Nothing.

John: Well, what did the guy who sold you the paint look like?

Christine: Um, he was tall and skinny....kind of like a basketball player....not the usual guy.

John: Yep, that's the guy --expletive, expletive, expletive-- and he better watch his --expletive expletive--- or I'll tell him what to --expletive, expletive. AND why are you still smiling?

Christine: Oh, it's just nice to hear (as I closed the dishwasher and did a cartwheel across the floor).

John: I'll take care of the paint from now on.

Christine: Right, okay (I sang back, as I performed a triple luxe into the family room).

Here's the thing: I couldn't tell you anything about the guy at the paint store, but when you are a full time Mommy and you put yourself last most of the time, this is always true:

"No matter how happily a woman may be married, it always please her to discover there is a nice man who wishes she were not." -H.L. Mencken


Amy M. said...

I recently went to my (former) work-place's Christmas party, where I befriended a young, new male teacher. He "friended" me on Facebook. Apparently, Brian had been stealing looks at my account, and later that night asked me who Bill Doyle was. I explained, the conversation ended. Later that week we were at a birthday party where Brian's best friend asked me who Bill Doyle was. I explained again, but this time I asked for explanation too. Brian's friend said "Oh, I was just curious b/c apparently he wrote something questionable on your wall, Brian read it and called me to ask how to delete a friend which he immediately did to Bill Doyle." Nice.

One Maid A' Milking said...

And now you must divulge the wall comment....come on....

Amy M. said...

I believe the egregious (shout-out to Pete) remark was (cover the young ones' eyes for the shame of it all)

"So great seeing you last night!"

I know, I am such a tramp.

Apparently, it was "!" that was the most offensive to my husband and his wing-man. You know how punctuation can send such mixed messages!

Anonymous said...

To: Former 263 South 260th Street Dwellers

From: Two Former Siena Atheletes (Baseball and Lacrosse)

We will execute those who attempt to get in the way of the plan called "life" we have laid out.

You would burst if you only knew how many ladies love to complement a 6'3", 189 pound, balding man who works in the most dispised industry in the world (other than Pete's).

I couldn't ignore all the hot looks a 5'11" (I may be off by an inch), athletic, Irish principal gets during parent-teacher nights.