Friday, November 19, 2010
Marriage 301, Lecture 536: Charwoman
As we are packing for our trip. Yes, we are leaving on Sunday for a ten-day use the frequent flier miles, use the hotel points, and use the vacation before they all expire jaunt to Paree, where the scourge of Gomez will be banished from my mind. Out with the bad Paris Boyfriend memory, in with the Good Husband Paris memory. I am pretty sure SH will not drink an entire bottle of wine every day at lunch, change into his Frette pajamas, take a four hour nap, then drag me to either 1. The Gap, 2. his bank or 3. the Ferrari dealer before we return to his cousin's apartment in the 7th for a supper of Belgian endive and another bottle of wine in front of the TV.
Me: I'm taking 7 pairs of underwear [a singular word that you can't make plural with an "s"]. I can wash them in the sink.
SH: If I take these [slinky boxers that would dry overnight because they are poly and not cotton, although there is always the option of draping them over the radiator, if our room has one], will you wash them?
Me: No! Wash them yourself!
SH: But I don't wash underwear.
Me: Why not?
SH: It's like I don't do windows.
Me: Too bad. We'll be on vacation. You'll have the time.
SH: You mean if you were already washing your underwear, I couldn't just throw mine in there,t too?
Me: FINE. Whatever.
PS I will post the rest of the van wreck story once everything is resolved with the van guy. It's a good story.