Like all married couples, Andy and I sometimes struggle through conflicts within our marriage. Then sometimes we have a conflict within the conflict because we have difficulty declaring a winner. I always know I'm right, therefore am the winner and Andy always thinks he's right because he lives in the land of denial where he is the king and eats chocolate bunnies all day long.
So yeah. Last Sunday, while I was working at ACS, he sends me a text message letting me know his brother is coming over to play Call of Duty after he gets off work. I thought that was cool but my mind immediately went to the 3 pairs of panties I had washed and left to dry in the bathroom so I texted back "make sure to put my panties in the room" and by that I meant bedroom. I get home after having taken my mom to dinner after work and found Andy still playing CoD alone. I go into the bathroom where I see, hanging for the world to see in their fuchsia pinkness and laced glory, my underwear.
I immediately come back out of the bathroom and stand patiently next to Andy, waiting for him to defend himself from the evil covert assassins who are trying
to kill him but then I notice there is no end in sight so I politely ask him to pause the game. He does so reluctantly:
Bee [showing him my phone]: Can you read out loud what this text says?
Andy: "Make sure to put my panties in the room" I did!
Bee: Come with me.
Andy: ::ANGRY SIGH::
Bee: ::MOCKING SIGH::
Bee [as we both walk into the bathroom]: What is that? [points at panties]
Andy: Those weren't there!
Bee: UhYES they were! What? Do you think I came in and staged the area in question before I brought you in here?
Andy: So who cares? Do you think Jim is gonna go home and tell mom and dad "I saw Bee's underwear hanging in the bathroom!"
Bee: I care! If that was the one specific thing I asked you to do, it means it matters to me!
Andy: Well, I put your work clothes away.
Bee: Yeah, thanks for that. You put away the clothing that everybody in the world can see but my undergarments were left displayed like hanging dead chickens in Chinatown!
Andy: If it bothers you so much, maybe you shouldn't hang them in the bathroom?
Bee: Where do you suggest? Somewhere more private? Like maybe at a street corner?
Bee: I can't leave you home alone without you doing something catastrophic-
Andy: Way to exaggerate there, Queenie-
Bee: -like eating my Raisinets!
Andy: Here we go again!
And now, for the bonus "Raisinets of Discord!"
Last Friday, Andy and I went out on our weekly date of errand running. I bought some gym shoes, then we stopped at Walgreen's for some toiletries. As we were heading for the cashier, we saw a big display of old time candy. You know the kind, right? Jujyfruits, milk duds, whoppers, hot tamales, etc. I don't know if you know this but I'm currently trying to be careful in what I put in my pie hole. So I walked right on by the yummy candy but had to come back when my husband was drawn to it like a magnet.
Andy [excitedly]: Bee! They have peanut butter whoppers. As in, here is some chocolate whoppers but wait! Here are some peanut butter whoppers! WHOPPERS COATED IN PEANUT BUTTER!
Bee: So get them.
Andy: They're 3 for $2. Do you want something?
I carefully look over the selection and analyze all the calories, fat, sugar, sodium, garygononium and finally choose a box of Raisinets.
Bee: Okay, I'll take the Raisinets. This way I can have a little and still satisfy my chocolate craving.
Andy: We need one more. They're 3 for $2.
Bee: You choose the 3rd one because I can't have anything else.
Andy: I'll take the sour patch kids!
Bee: Are you sure? You don't like gummy candy.
Andy: I'm in the mood for them.
We left the store. Once we got home, I opened my box of Raisinets, counted out 8 little raisins (I just thought of that song '8 little injuns' and then I felt ashamed of myself because I feel like a racist)(Okay, I googled '8 little injuns' and google said "did you mean 10 little Indians you insensitive bitch?" Ouch google! Ouch.) and savored each one by letting it sit in my mouth until the chocolate dissolved on its own. I closed the box, laid it on the dining room with a gentle pat letting it know that I would soon pay it another visit. The next day, Saturday, I went off to work so that I may support my beloved husband's habit of expensive shoes- uh, expensive VIDEO GAMES. When I got home, after being on my feet for 4 hours without a pee break, I looked over at the dining room table where my Raisinets awaited me. Only they weren't there.
Bee: Andy? Where are my Raisinets?
Andy [from the dungeon]: I ate them.
Just those 3 words. No "sorry, hon". No "a wild bear came in and took them". Nothing. So I sashayed my butt to the dungeon and asked hopefully, "you're kidding, right?"
Andy [looks briefly away from his computer screen]: No. Why?
Bee: You ate the candy I specifically chose because I'm dieting?? What about your sour patch kids and PEANUT BUTTER COVERED whoppers??
Andy: Yuck! Those tasted like ass.
Now, I don't know how things are in your neck of the woods, dear reader, but in mine? When you take a dieting lady's Raisinets, you better pray you wake up with all your fingers.