Psychology of the Individual: Husband Edition

Two things about Bryan:

1. He just shaved his face whiskers into something like a goatee.  He now looks like the IT person at your work. Or like the only person you know who got their MFA in poetry.

2. When I left for work today he said, “I’m just going to stay home this morning and clean the house,” which is, without exception, the #1 most beautiful sentence in the English language.

But then when I went home at lunch, I found the house still looked like somebody went on vacation and then came home and emptied all the suitcases on the floor and then did a clogging routine on top of them.  (Which is what actually happened.)

And so then I looked out the window and I discovered the innards of Bryan’s shed strewn all over the back yard.  Like, all over: life jackets, broken antique chairs, gallons of dried up latex paint, gas cans, drain snakes found on the side of the road in South Georgia, milk crates full of pieces of rope, tools…. I mean, I guess they’re tools.

And I asked him:

“Bryan,” I said. “I thought you were going to clean the house?”

“Well,” he said, gnawing thoughtfully on a french fry.  “I was going to clean the house, and then I though ‘what really needs cleaning is the back porch.’  But then I decided I couldn’t do that until the shed was cleaned out.  Also, the attic.

“So, as far as I can tell, here’s the priority of what needs to be cleaned: shed, attic, back porch, house.”

When I respectfully suggested that cleaning the shed and the attic are wastes of valuable human life seconds, he said, “You’re going to feel the clean before you see it,” winked at me and plopped down in front of his computer, chuckling softly to himself.

You know what I love about Bryan? His self confidence.

You know what runs me up a wall about Bryan? His self confidence.


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