Sunday, June 3, 2012

Rainy Days and Husbands Always Get Me Down

I don't think I am going to survive any more of my husband's help this weekend.  Don't get me wrong.  I love him and I know he means well.  At least I think he does  However, no one can drive me crazy faster.   Today I had to BUY a newspaper because he saved me a trip to pick him up at the auto-shop yesterday by walking home, and  unawares, left our (free) newspaper at the shop, containing all of my coupons.  I had to actually BUY a newspaper today.  I sure hope the coupons are good this week, otherwise, heads will roll.

After I went to church, bought the paper, had lunch with the two offspring who accompanied me to church, I came home and he says "What do we have to make for dinner tonight?" I was like - Dude, I JUST GOT HOME, I have no idea. He (admittedly nice) wanted to know what we had,  so that he could plan, because he wants to help out on the weekends with meals. Well, why didn't you SAY that? Instead of making it sound like I needed to come up with some dinner menu on the fly after just eating lunch and I end up looking like a douche for getting annoyed about it. 

Right after that, my 17 year old daughter  asked me to make for her my speciality (speciality is TOO a work Spell-Check), a Cheesy Chicken Casserole, so she could take it to her work party tonight. I kindly obliged her request, and had her purchase the ingredients we didn't have on hand, and I miraculously eeked out TWO casseroles, so now dinner is set, right? Spouse will not have worry about that any more today.

 Once I finished assembling the casseroles, sweating like a large swine, because my kitchen is like a furnace (mainly because NO ONE will keep the blinds closed like I repeatedly ask them too), I decided to reward myself with a frozen non-dairy treat.  I knew we had some because I had put some, the ones that come in tubes, in the freeze to freeze overnight. Out to the garage I go to get my icy treat. I can already feel the coolness sliding down my throat. Or not.

To my utter dismay, I open the freezer and see, not a row of colorful frozen confections. No, I discover the whole bottom tier of the freezer has DEFROSTED and resembles a lake.  Did I ever tell you the story about the aforementioned husband who didn't buy me the frost-free freezer I wanted, because his father, or some other Authority Figure greater than I, told him the kind you have to defrost manually, use less electricity? Um...not if you get an Energy Star rated frost-free appliance I insisted at the time! Refer back to the Authority Figure greater than I mentioned earlier and you understand how I ended up with a manual defrost freezer. Consequently, as it does in this type of freezer (which I cannot believe they even SELL any more), frost builds up on the outside of the shelves. Seeing as it has been a couple of years since I defrosted the freezer, there was quite a bit of frost built up inside there, thus the copious amount of standing water in the bottom of the unit.  I guess, it would have behooved me to, in my spare time, defrost the dinosour and then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Seething internally, I looked at a puddle of water with defrosted popcicles and defrostING chicken, and various other foodstuffs SWIMMING IN IT. The bottom shelf was completely defrosted, and  the other 3 shelves, the ice was starting to melt about 1/3 of the way back. WTF? I go to ask my beloved - wth happened to the freezer; someone didn't shut it good and it is all defrosting? To which he replies - Weeellll (in an accusatory tone) SOMEONE put chicken on the bottom shelf, so the door didn't close. He goes on explaining-- About 1/2 an hour before you got home (smugness creeping into his voice), I discovered this, and closed the door. Okay, I calmly, okay not so calmly, explain that, first of all, I put the chicken there, like 3 or 4 weeks ago, so the chicken wasn't actually the problem, you see. I suspect that someone was digging around in there for a ::somethings:: and inadvertently moved the chicken just enough to keep the door from closing, That person, was NOT me.

So, I head back to the garage to clean all standing water out of the bottom shelf; making sure everything is not stuck to the half melted, now refreezing, frost on the other shelves. I am not proud of the swearing that ensued as I completed this task in the INFERNO-like conditions of our garage. Once I got that done, sweat dripping down between my breasts, (I HATE that feeling), I return to were my partner was, propped up in bed, simultaneously playing on the computer and watching TV and said (I wish I could say I was nice about it, but the sweaty boobs prevented civility)- Um...hello? What did you think was going to happen to all of the FOOD in the freezer once the standing water froze over again? How did you picture I was going to chisel out what I needed for any given meal? To which he replied - I didn't SEE any water in there. Hey, knob-head, where did you think the previously frozen water, (ie, ICE) went once it THAWED out?  You knew it was thawed, right, soooo, thawed ice equals WATER, correct, so where did you think it went to?  Yea, I didn't say that last bit. I wanted to preserve at least a small shred of dignity about the whole thing, and not become a total cliched kvetching wife here. After all, I am trying to learn not to let these kinds of events ruffle my feathers so monumentally.

Seriously here.  I really am trying to learn not to over-react, HOWEVER, I have to seriously wonder about the collective mentality of the male inhabitants of this house. Does A+B=C really not occur to them when these kinds of things happen? Or do they just pretend like it doesn't occur to them, so that we women (ie, ME) will be the ones to rectify the unsavory outcome? Maybe they really aren't slow-witted, after all, but cunning and crafty. I mean, I was the one who did all the clean up work here, right?

So much for a lazy, restful Sunday afternoon. AND, I didn't even get a frozen treat out of the deal - they were all melted. :\  Wine maybe?  Yes, I think wine is definitely in order.