Today I had trouble finding a shirt. Please remember the following:
a) we live in a 500 square ft. apartment
b) I do laundry (and just finished it all yesterday)
c) I put the clothes in either our dresser or hanging up
So where, might I ask, IS MY SHIRT?!?! This morning I was frantically looking for my white undershirt. I was cycling through my drawers over and over. Anger was building inside me, "Where is it?!?!" I growled.
Jer was quietly reading on the couch. This was bugging me. There he was, reading, while I was obviously angry and had no one to pin my predicament on.
I considered just wearing a different shirt, as I was very late for work; but the shirt had ticked me off and it was personal.
I kicked my pillows around for the 3rd time, thinking maybe the shirt crawled under them while my back was turned. Nothing.
Grr...Jer was still not helping. The missing shirt was somehow partially his fault and he should be helping me look. Obviously he was not getting that message.
So I lovingly called to him, "WHERE IS THE &*%^*&$&% shirt?!?!?"
Jer tried to "help" by looking over my sholder while I looked for the 6th time. He quickly discovered he'd be more helpful looking elsewhere.
After 10 minutes of looking in sheets, the couch, under the bed, and my drawers for the 20th time, I gave up.
I've decided it's the cat's fault.
- Nebraska, United States
- A would-be stay at home mom working full-time as a teacher. I teach at my old Highschool, working side-by-side with my own teachers. I blog to keep the Texan grandparents updated and chronicle our life for future reference. (In other words, I don't have a real baby-book or diary.) Comments make my day. Thanks for stopping by! kimlepper at gmail.com