sigh…See what I mean? :smack:
Men will never understand the womand prehistoric instict to save every box she can in case she ever needs it for something. 
As for the Ujests and their dysfunction?
" Before you open the bombay doors and engage a mission you better check to see if there is toilet paper on the roll."
If he drops the drawers and engages in Rodan’s Thinker Pose without checking the TP issue, I will not be the TP Fairy. No sir, no way. You can sit there or you can waddle out with your pants at your ankles in search of the elusive nomadic roll of Charmin, this is a lesson of survival of the species and you just failed, again, mister."
Now that our children are older, he has them do his bidding.
BAH!
Trying to get The Cody to shower and brush his teeth.
He hates water. Like a damn cat. Unfortunatly, he can’t groom himself. So, I keep telling him that he NEEDS TO SHOWER MORE THAN ONCE EVERY 2 WEEKS.
And he hates the way his teeth feel after brushing. Also, that it hurts him gums. I explain that if he brushed more often, it wouldn’t hurt. Fine, don’t brush your teeth every day. But stop drinking a 2L of Mountain Dew Code Red every 2 days and eating nothing but candy. He has two molars that are 50% gone, and a black cavity in one of his top canines. But he won’t listen to me! GAH!
We get into the teeth arguement everytime I take him grocery shopping. “Here, I’m gonna get the Mountain Dew, But I’m also gonna get a 12 pack of Mellow Yellow for a snack.” “The hell you are.”
These are our worst arguements in 3 years. Doing pretty well, I think.
Almost forgot one we had 2 mornings ago.
The Cody broke his right foot at work, so now I have to drive him around, including to work.
I was driving him to work ther other morning, and this is the conversation:
The Cody: “You need to be in the left lane.”
Me: “There’s a car coming up beside me.”
pause
“You really need to be in the left lane.” Remember, we’re 2 lights away from where I need to turn.
“There’s a CAR BESIDE me.”
pause
“You can go now.”
“No I can’t. There’s another car beside me. Shut up.”
Now we’re getting close to his work, which I’ve only driven to once.
“Um, where am I turning?”
“Huh? Oh, this street. RIGHT HERE.” He told me this as I’m about 5 feet from the turn, going 40.
“$@^*! You know I’ve only driven here once before, right? I don’t know where I’m supposed to turn.”
“You should’ve watched the signs for Harrison.”
me trying not to poke his eyes out
“It’s 6:45, I’ve been awake for 25 minutes, there are a lot of cars, and I have no idea where I am. YOU need to tell me where to turn.”
Bleh.
OK, this gave me a full-on case of the willies. Gross!
Mrs. Giraffe and I fight very rarely, but we have had a couple of dumb arguments. One that comes to mind was over the fact that I rolled my eyes in response to some minorly critical remark she made. The fight wasn’t about the critical comment, or my disagreeing with it, but the fact that I rolled my eyes. Pretty silly.
Aiiiieeee! I can’t even imagine being with someone so filthy and ill-kept. I think that if I were to ask a woman I was dating the last time she showered and the answer was more than, say, 48 hours tops, I’d walk away. If it was more than a week, I’d run.
And really bad teeth like that? :eek:
No way. Just no way.
What, pray tell, leads you to stay with someone like that?
Just a couple nights ago, Mr. Rilch and I got into it about what life was like in the '50s. Basically, he insisted that Back to the Future was as good as a documentary, in its portrayal of that decade. Well, that’s my words, not his…but he absolutely refused to believe that everything wasn’t shiny and brand new, in shades of aqua and pink, and when you pulled into a service station, six gas jockeys really did jump out and start humping your car. Beatniks? Segregation? The McCarthy hearings? Korean War? Nahhhhhhhh! Everything was wonderful back then! There was no such thing as angst, or corruption; there were no political dissidents! Look at this copy of the first issue of Playboy :rolleyes:! See all the ads? That was the age of prosperity!
I almost slept on the couch. But we vowed, way back when, never to go to sleep on our anger. Finally got him to admit that there’s good and bad in every era, and real live people rarely live up to the propaganda you see in advertising. Also helps that we have 8mm footage of his mom’s graduation party. Not a poodle skirt or Elvis poster in sight; just kids wearing jeans and t-shirts.
Don’t even say that collecting boxes is a feminine trait. This is another one of our stupid arguments –
Look, honey, you wore the Doc Martens. The leather started to fall apart, and so did the soles. You replaced the shoestrings several times. Finally the soles broke and you tossed the shoes.
Now, I know you have a strong attachment to every box you come across, but can I PLEASE get rid of that box now? It’s taking up space in the closet.
You have NO idea how angry he gets when I suggest recycling a box. NONE. It’s like I’m attacking him personally, like the boxes are his babies. I don’t think he’s thrown away one box voluntarily his whole life.
When I first started dating him he kept every kitchen appliance in the original boxes, no matter how old the things were. If I wanted some toast I would have to hunt and find the box, get the toaster out of it (shaking the dried crumbs and other collected detritus out of the box while doing so), set it up, make the toast, and then I would sneakily try to get rid of the useless box.
I am really surprised we ended up married.