The Husband: "I need to get some new fishing gear for the trip."
Me: "Okay. But don't you already have some gear in the garage?"
The Husband: "Yes, but some of it is broken."
Me: "Then WHY is it in the garage?! Throw it out."
The Husband: "I'm not sure what is broken and what isn't."
Me: *blankly stares at him, while wondering why he didn't just get rid of the gear that was broken when he figured out it was broken*
The Husband, accurately reading the expression on my face: "You just want me to be perfect! And to throw things away. And to not bring plastic bags into the house!"
Me: "If that's your interpretation of perfect, then yes, that is what I want."
And he wonders why the garage is in the state it's in.
We are working on it though - and it looks a lot better than it did, but obviously, still has a long way to go - gee, I wonder why?
He has promised that once we get it in shape he will keep it that way. Considering he's been pretty good about his closet, I have a glimmer of hope - but just a glimmer, mind you.
The garage. Do NOT get me started. I have taken it upon myself to clean it out and organize it every summer for the past several years. I do NOT want this job. Coach and I have very different ideas of cleaning out the garage. He moves a few things. I remove everything. Clean the floor and only put back what we use. Sigh. This is the worst part of summer.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your definition of perfection as told thru the garage pack rat.
Oh, this made me laugh. I can just see you two standing there arguing about the fishing gear. I would just take the whole lot and throw it out. But that's obviously not a good way to get 'er done. :-)
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