SH was supposed to go to this political thingy at 7 at the library but he didn't even get into the shower until 6:40 because he didn't go running until 6:00 even though he has been at home all day on his sabbatical so you would think he would figure out this critical path and maybe address it but that is not how he works.
It is how I work, which is one of the reasons that although I love him, I will never remarry once he is dead because I hate waiting for other people who refuse to be on time.I would rather live alone. I really would.
Anyhow, I had planned for him to be gone by 6:30 because he had said he would just walk and it takes about ten minutes to get there and then you want to find a place to sit and you want to talk to your political friends about politics because your wife does not want to talk about politics and indeed that was part of the deal of your sabbatical - that you would not try to talk to your wife about politics because SHE IS NOT INTERESTED.
I had planned for him to be gone by 6:45 at the latest and then I was going to make him a surprise chocolate cake. I made a pear tart and an apple cake last week but SH is right - they are not chocolate. In addition to wanting my husband to have the desserts he wants, I am also on an ambitious endeavor to use inventory, which means using up the ground llama and the Groupon Klement's sausage and the chocolate in the freezer downstairs.
And I like having chocolate around.
He went running and I put Shelly at Gymbox (great workouts, btw) on pause and greased the pan and cut the wax paper to put in the bottom of the pan and greased that too and then I measured the sugar and the flour and the cocoa powder. I hid it all in the oven, reminding myself NOT TO TURN THE OVEN ON UNTIL I REMOVED THE COCOA AND OTHER STUFF.
Then I finished my workout with Shelly which thrilled Shirley because she likes to help me by sitting on my belly or attacking my hair when I am on my back doing abs or triceps.
SH still wasn't back.
I sighed. I made my lunch to take to work.
He returned. Instead of getting straight into the shower, which is what I would have done if it were 6:30 and there were an event I wanted to attend that started at 7, he went upstairs to do I don't know what.
All I know is I could not start the cake.
And not because it is a special event that he cannot know about the cake until it is ready. But because SH thinks that food, ideally, would be prepared by leprechauns in the night. Leprechauns who either use no dishes or wash, dry, and put them away before SH ever has a chance to see them dirty.
SH's motto is, "The purpose of a kitchen is to be spotless at all times."
I knew if he knew I was planning to bake that he would freak out that there was going to be MESS and he had just WASHED THE FLOOR --
Oh yes. SH has decided that washing the floor is not that bad if he uses Swiffer.
"Why don't you just use a rag and get on your hands and knees?" I asked.
"Because you agree with Barbara Ehrenreich that washing the floor on one's hands and knees is a sign of oppression from the patriarchy?"
(Which makes me wonder what the floors look like in her house.)(Because on your hands and knees is how you get a floor clean is why.)
"Because I just hate getting on my hands and knees."
So he would rather help the One Percenters who own stock in P&G get rich from overpriced cleaning aides than use a rag.
I have decided to turn a blind eye, much as the Occupy protesters who hate the rich but love Apple products manufactured by quasi-slaves in China turn a blind eye, because it is in my interests to turn a blind eye. If I force the issue, then I will be the one washing the floors and I do not want that to happen. I like coming home to a clean house that includes a clean floor.
Where was I?
He did not leave until 7:10! For an event that started at 7! How does that not make him insane? It makes me insane and I am not even the person going! I am the person staying home to bake a chocolate cake.
Which is now in the oven and smells divine.