I love my husband, I truly do. One of the many reasons I love him is the fact that he is "manly." That he is the one I can count on to open stubborn jars, and whatever else he does that is "manly" around here.
But... (you knew there had to be one, didn't you?)
Sometimes his "manly" strength irritates the life out of me.
Like whenever we are dealing with something plastic. If he is the one in charge of repairing it, it inevitably gets broken further. Because a "twist" isn't just enough when a full on "wrench" is surely better.
Or like this morning.
Which, of course, requires a little bit of a backstory. Yesterday we were attending a cookout to celebrate Labor Day and Hubby was the designated driver. (That's probably THE shortest backstory I've ever given you)
As the designated driver, he drove us home and parked the car safely on what must be the shortest and steepest driveway in the history of the world. A driveway that definitely necessitates using the parking brake.
And everything was fine.
Until this morning when I found myself struggling to release the brake. As he does with most everything he hadn't just tugged on the brake; he had YANKED the brake. Making sure that he YANKED that brake as hard as he could. What he didn't realize while he was YANKING on that brake was that his wife - the one with the puny arms and thumbs - would be the one fighting with the brake the next day...after he had already left for work.
After five minutes of struggling, I sent him a text telling him of my dilemma. He gets credit for immediately calling and asking what he could do - he was even willing to drive home and fix it. But as I was scolding him and reminding him that not everything in this word requires brute strength; that sometimes a little finesse is in order, all while still fiddling with the brake and getting more and more frustrated and then? Success!
Apparently, adrenaline finally kicked in and I was able to unlock the brake and drive to work.
Now, what are the odds that he is going to remember this the next time he drives my car? My bet? Slim to none.
Yep, slim, about the same as mine remembering anything I tell him.
ReplyDeleteI agree...the odds are slim. Very, very slim.
DeleteMy hubby does the same: it takes almost superhuman strength to release that damn brake. Of course, I lift weights so I manage but... barely. Made me laugh, Gigi :-)
ReplyDeleteYou could be talking about the Ball & Chain. If ever he has to get something out that's trapped somewhere, or do something that requires some strength, he inevitable ends up making a problem about ten times worse. Most of the time now, I tell him not to touch things, but when he does attempt something, I have to walk away. It's usually me who ends up fixing the end result too.
ReplyDeleteI always set the emergency brake. Habit from the mail trucks... they pop out of gear OFTEN, so our parking procedure includes curbing the wheels and setting the break. Drives Tony bonkers.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of the time Tony was gently twisting the spigot on the front of the house. One quick turn and he pulled it right out.
At one point, as he's standing there looking at it, I had to say "You know that sound is water flooding the basement, right?"
And wouldn't you know... it was a Sunday night, round 6pm.