There are 6 little words that will leave my husband moaning and groaning and trembling in fear. I use them only when I really need something. They are..."You know what I was thinking..."
He hates these words because they are always followed with phrases like:
"we should move the 1000 lb. treadmill from the guest room to our bedroom" or, "the paint in the living room needs a fresh coat." and sometimes, "wouldn't it be fun to have another baby?"
Yesterday I was sitting in the baby's room and I started thinking. There was entirely too much furniture in there and we needed to move some things around. You see, I love to move furniture. I figure if I am going to move the couch to clean behind it, I may as well move it across the room and down the hall while I am at it. Soon after my husband and I were married he quickly discovered my furniture moving vice. His back has never recovered from the time I wanted him to move the grandfather clock from one side of the room to the other, and then back again when I decided that I liked it better where it originally was.
Anyway, yesterday I called my husband and said those dreaded 6 words to him. His response to my "You know what I was thinking?" is always a muffled groan, a "please-stop thinking" and then finally a "what do you want me to do?" He is such a good guy. He also knows where his bread is buttered.
Last night we ended up moving the big oak entertainment center that is in the baby's room, down the hall and into the toy room. It has great storage capabilities and what does the baby need with an entertainment center anyway? The TV that was in the toy room was moved down the stairs and into my van because I am taking it to Goodwill. The remote control was lost years ago during a move and so it is like a torture devise every time you want to change the channel... you have to actually get up and walk to the television set. Ridiculous! The TV stand that was in the toy room was moved down the stairs and then up the stairs to the attic.
Now I feel better about things... although I would like to put Emma and Aaron's beds back into bunk beds. I may just have to go teach Aaron those dreaded 6 words. It is about time I pass on the thinking gene. It is a burden sometimes being the only one who thinks around here...
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5 comments:
Did you at least put it in front of the hole in the wall?
I think we were separated at birth or something.
My husband tells me every day that he thanks God he isn't blind because he'd kill himself trying to walk around in here since I re-arrange every week or so.
I like it. I was raised in a military household and get the itch to move every couple years. So, I paint and move furniture instead. Hopefully we'll get to move soon and my itch will be scratched for real.
I can't believe that people actually buy one house and stay in it forever. That has to be a cruel joke, right?
For the love of all that is good, you must never speak to my wife, nor communicate with her in any way.
Your post made my spine tingle. My wife's projects generally don't involve furniture, but paint, brushes, tools, and building stuff.
Cris,
Your cousin Beth was gifted with the same gene. I noticed it when she was about 3 or 4 years old.
I was taliking on the phone and the couch went past the living room door way...it wasn't until she went off to college that I was able to arrange the living room my way and leave it that way. Except of course at Christmas time when the tree takes my spot and I sit by the front door.
Love your blog!
And you too!
Aunt Barbara
Heh. I, too love to move furniture. My husband wants to kill me sometimes!
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