I Clean, He Kills

I like to think that I'm a fairly determined and persevering person. When I start a job, I like to see it through until completion. We've talked in past posts how I enjoy organizing things. It's personally rewarding to take a mess and organize, transform, and change it from chaos to something of order. That was my goal today -- to go through the three big closets in our bedroom and make them beautiful ... until my husband cautioned me about the spiders that are sure to be hiding there. He proceeded to talk about mixing up some chemicals for me to spray in the closets after they were emptied out, rounding up some rubber gloves for me to use, and then informed me to have a good day. Gulp! Kill spiders? Guard against dangerous chemicals? All to have my shoes nicely organized and my purses beautifully displayed?

So, I did what any normal woman would do. I passed on cleaning out the closets today. I figure I'll wait when Wes is home and HE can wear rubber gloves, pull things out from the corners, and smash the dastardly, murderous spiders for me while I run hysterically screaming from the room if we happen to spot one.

My next thought was to clean out the storage shelves where Wes keeps all his tools, electrical supplies, plumbing things, blah blah blah. None of it is pretty, but it needs to be organized and put in labeled bins for easy access. Sounds like a good plan, right? When I informed Wes that I wouldn't be cleaning the closet, but would be organizing the shelves instead, he casually told me to not be surprised if I see any mice. Are you kidding me? Don't even get me started on my fear of mice. Ever heard of the bubonic plague? I've got news for you -- mice (and their close cousins, rats) were behind all of that! As I sat there wide-eyed, my husband kissed me good-bye and left for work -- leaving me to the mercy of fanged, deranged mice that are hiding around my home. I'm in the process of finding a super-duty antibacterial, anti-mousal (I just invented that word) cleaning agent for the shelves.

My day of organizing has been ravaged by spiders and mice. Granted, these spiders and mice haven't been seen, so technically they're not a threat. Who am I kidding? Of course, they're a threat! Considering that I hadn't even thought of varmints in my closet or storage area, now I'm scared to death to change out my shoes due to deadly spiders (I'll be wearing black flip flops for the rest of my life because those are the only pair not IN my closet at the moment) and do NOT ask me to go get a light bulb because a disease-ridden mouse might contaminate me.

Instead, I'll just plan a day where my wonderful husband can help me organize. He will be so happy to hear that. Since he was kind enough to point out the spiders and mice, surely he'll be kind enough to take care of those critters for me while I clean. Just another example of our working together ... I clean, he kills. And that's why God put us together.

Heroes and Smashed Cars

We're shopping for a new car because ours was totaled (NOT MY FAULT!!!). Yes, I just happened to be the driver. And yes, this just happens to be the second car in four years that has been totaled while I've been driving. But neither of the wrecks have been my fault. I promise! Try telling people that you've totaled two cars in four years, and there are quite a lot of snide remarks about women drivers. In fact, some of the remarks are downright rude and if I were one of THOSE women drivers, I would take great offense. But, since I'm not and I'm a pretty darn good driver who has just happens to frequently have car wrecks, I'm not insulted.

I've decided though that I don't like shopping for cars. It's too much pressure. Cars cost too much and my poor little psyche can't handle all of the stress. Personally, I'd like to be able to find what I consider a "perfect" car. I want a small car that gets great gas mileage ... is cute and not a yucky color ... has fancy do-dads ... doesn't scream out Granny Mobile ... has low mileage and is a newer model ... and one that I can get for a screaming bargain (preferably garage sale prices). Try telling THAT description to a used-car salesman! Talk about getting snide remarks!! Fortunately, I'm married to a wonderful man who really likes shopping for vehicles (and who knows NOT to make rude comments about lady drivers). Plus, this man doesn't mind if I don't go shopping with him. In fact, he prefers to leave my whining little self at home while he meanders around kicking tires. I'm just grateful that God put us together ... and not just because he likes to shop for cars.

I like him because he kills the big, icky spiders ... and opens up the pickle jars that seem to be cemented closed ... he watches romantic comedies with me when he'd probably prefer to watch a shoot-'em-up movie ... he laughs at my silly attempts at humor ... he thinks our children are just as wonderful as I do ... he eats all of my cooking experiments without complaining ... he has a quiet yet strong faith ... he never forgets my birthday, or our anniversary, or the anniversary of our first date, or Mother's Day, or Valentine's Day, or any other "holiday" excuse to buy me a card or gift ... yup, he's kind of my hero.

I like him.

And I like the fact that he's shopping for our car ... a car that I'd like to promise I won't wreck, but I can't help it when other people run red lights ... or when other people forget to stop when the car in front of them has stopped. But, to the best of my ability, I'll continue to promise to protect this new car and not smash it up. And he'll continue to be my hero ...