Dear Magnolia,
I hope you can help me with a very serious problem that plagues my household. My husband is nearsighted. Or rather, “near” sighted.
His eyes work just fine, his brain does not. And by that, I mean that he gets things nearly done and then crosses them off his list. ALL. THE. TIME.
Take the toilet paper roll. We run out – bad. He gets a new roll – good. He places the new roll on top of the old roll – bad. For the life of me, I cannot understand WHY he can’t spend 1 min of the 15 he is parked on the toilet removing the roll-holder from the wall, taking off the empty carton and putting on the new roll. In our old house, we had one of those holders that is shaped like a sideways “U”. All he had to do to change the roll was slide the old carton to the left and let it drop straight into the trashcan stationed underneath it, and he STILL stacked the new one on top. WTF?!?!?
Ditto with the dishes. When he is feeling especially generous, he will offer to do the dishes. When I am feeling especially stupid AND exhausted, I will accept said offer. He disappears into the kitchen for 30min, water running the entire time, and the next day I find 98% of the items in the dishwasher. Unwashed. WHAT WAS HE DOING WITH ALL OF THAT WATER? It infuriates the hell out of me to find our everyday necessity singular items (bread knife, cheeseboard, etc) dirty in the dishwasher. I can’t decide whether he thinks that they’ll get magically clean just by sitting in there or if he thinks that I have 7 more hidden away somewhere. Probably A, and he is correct as I will clean them.
Even worse, his nearsightedness extends beyond physical activities. “I’m nearly done with work and then I’ll be on my way,” he says when I phone him 20 minutes after he is supposed to be home. Nearly insinuates that the end is within his sight, and I won’t be expected to fend off hordes of sweaty, hungry children while trying to make a healthy, filling dinner. Invariably, my patience runs out long before he gets back home. “Dinner is nearly ready,” I say as he walks in the door, and by that I mean that the pizza guy should be here any minute.
There is one area of the house where he nearsightedness will someday end up as the motive for me killing him or us divorcing – the laundry. You see, my husband will tell me that he is “done” with the laundry when all of his clothes have been folded and put away. “I’m done” he says. And he is. But I’m not. I walk in at midnight to find a mountain of unfolded, wrinkled kids’ clothes on my side of the bed and no one around to help.
So I need help. His nearsighted brain is driving me bananas. What is a woman to do?
Advice gratefully accepted,
Lynn Morrison – the Nomad Mom Diary
Dear Potential Murderer:
The nature of the Half-Ass beast is complex. He truly believes he is helping, and however true the intentions of his heart are, he will never deliver. He just won’t. Minutes into some task or another, he is already thinking about an entirely other thing and disengages from the running water and the dishes. His mental squirrel just can’t stick with the program. Truly this sounds like a particularly dire case of Half-Assitis.
Because your situation is so serious, I am going to suggest drastic measures. These five actions might seem harsh and terrible, but your Half-Ass Beast must hear and understand your frustration.
- Make sure that his drawers contain only mismatched single socks. If he doesn’t notice and wears them anyway, polish his shoes, but only one per pair.
- Serve him dinner that is only partially cooked (if you want to do the job right, just overcook some french fries and on the other side of the plate, slap a nasty raw chicken breast as accompaniment)
- Change only your side of the bed sheets and leave his rumpled and dribble a bit of honey on the pillowcase. (Ok this is just mean but the man needs to learn)
- Buy groceries and label them all for you and the kids and put this note on the fridge: “I got our food for the week, but didn’t feel like lugging any more home, so you can go get the rest of the order if you want to eat”
- And finally… this one is the kicker if the first lessons didn’t work. Engage him in the bedroom, wait until precisely the half way point, yawn loudly and roll out from under him. Have a note ready and hand it to him: “You get to finish doing me when you can finish doing the god damned dishes”
Good luck lady, the struggle is real,
