Married Life

Married life. It’s quite interesting. It’s nice to have someone that is happy working our way through all the seasons of “How I Met Your Mother” on Friday and Saturday nights. It’s nice having an automatic partner when we play darts in the basement of the Flying Saucer with our college friends. It’s nice having one other person in this entire world completely understand how obsessed I am with Sparky, because he’s just as obsessed as I am (for the record, he’s the cutest, most loving, little rambunctious terrier on the planet. Even though he can’t have any toys because he’ll eat them all).

But it’s not nice to still find towels draped in random places throughout the apartment. Or to find bowls and plates in the sink that are NEVER rinsed out. Ever. Or to open the lid to the washer and find two wet socks and a pair of wet shorts stuck to the sides. Or to turn the water on in the bathtub and have it rain down on your head from the shower when you weren’t expecting it because someone forgot to turn the knob that switches from shower to tub.

But then again, there are the other nice times when I get home from work, and after Dallas has already left, and turn on the TV to find Cartoon Network, which implies that Dallas had been watched Spongebob or Flapjack or something silly. And then there’s the funny little half-finished sock rabbit sitting on the table that he had to make for a class. And then when I walk by the grocery list on the door and see something like “tangy zip of Miracle Whip” scribbled on it.

Overall, the little cute things far outweigh the annoying things. I’d say Dallas is a keeper, and married life is A-OK.

Of All Things…

I knew that Dallas and I might argue about certain things, but never once did I think one of those things would be over who got to be the one to put the weekly Scrubbing Bubbles Cleaning Gel in the toilet. You’ve seen the advertisement for this awesome little product, I’m sure. You press a tube onto the inside of the toilet, and it leaves a little circle of gel that lasts a week. It’s actually quite cool, and apparently there’s something fulfilling about using that little wand to leave a circle of freshness. 

Pillow Fight

Last night Dallas and I engaged in a conversation that could have easily been from an episode of Seinfeld. This converstation lasted a good 5 minutes, and each statement was even more ridiculous than the last. The problem is that Dallas’s pillow is a little bigger than mine. I have the standard size pillow, but Dallas has a long one. It’s even too big for the pillow case, so part of his pillow is always sticking out of the case. As we were about to go to sleep, I notice, once again, something that he tries to do every single night.

Because his pillow is longer, he tries to position it to take up more of the bed. In a fair world, the bed should be split 50%, 50%. But with Dallas’s dumb pillow, he always tries to make it about 60%, 40%, with the advantage going to him. Here’s the conversation that followed my observation that he yet again tried to cheat me out of my fair share of the bed:

S: Dallas. Come on. You’re doing it again.

D: Doing what?

S: You’re taking up more than half the bed!

D: I can’t help that my pillow is longer.

S: That doesn’t give you an excuse to take up more of the bed.

D: Well, when I line up my pillow with the edge of the bed, it just goes over farther than your pillow does.

S: But you can’t just assume that you get to line your pillow up with the edge of the bed. Of course that would give you more room. The fair thing is to let your pillow hang off the bed a little bit, so that we both have equally proportionate shares of the bed.

D: Well I’m just compensating for the fact that your legs are always on my side of the bed, and I barely have any room for my feet at the bottom of the bed.

S: You’re making that up so you can have an excuse to use your whole pillow on the bed.

D: Whatever, I just can’t help that my pillow is bigger.

Etc, etc.

This went on for a good five minutes before we both realized that this wasn’t an episode of Seinfeld. I can’t remember who won the conversation, but it was probably me. At least this wasn’t as bad as the time that I woke up to find myself completely covered with a pillow. Dallas likes to sleep with a pillow next to his side, and drape an arm over it. I guess he just forgot that I was there, because sure enough, I woke up and didn’t know what was going on. Thanks, hubby.

Married Life

Typically, I get home around 5:30 every evening. Dallas is always either at work or at school, that time, so I am lucky enough to come home to find little remnants of Dallas that he has left throughout the day. Without fail, this is what I find almost everyday:

• A wet towel piled on the back of the couch.
• A dirty glass with either juice in it, or some sort of smoothie made from the Magic Bullet. Or an almost empty Diet Dr. Pepper can, with enough left to cause a problem if Sparky gets up there and starts to investigate.
• Dishes in the sink that have not been rinsed out. Just to let you know, dirty, wet food in the sink absolutely grosses me out to the max. If it’s too bad, I’d rather throw out a tupperware container, rather than wash it out and use it again. It’s just one of those things. I nearly throw up.
• Beard hair in the bathroom sink.
• Dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, often laying on the ground RIGHT NEXT to the hamper. I can’t even begin to understand that one.
• If Sparky and Dallas have been running around together during the day on one of Dallas’s breaks, I’ll also come home to find numerous black socks strewn across the floor, and Sparky’s food bowl will also be hidden somewhere in the living room. On unlucky days, there will also be one of my bras under the couch, because Sparky has quite an obsession with bras. It’s weird.

These are just a few things. Granted, it’s not that bad, and it’s not every single thing, every single day. But it’s at least one thing every day. I’m training him, though. He is getting  very good about the dishes situation, because he knows that I just can’t handle wet, bloated food in the sink drain. Oh geez, I’m getting sick just thinking about it.

The good things about married life far outweigh the little annoying things, however. I’m not going to make a list because that would be too long, but one of my favorite things is in the mornings after I’m ready, and Sparky is running around, I’ll put Sparky up on the bed with Dallas. He’ll bounce along and make his way toward Dallas’s head, where he will attack him with licks and tail-wags and snuggles. Sparky loves it, and it’s pretty hilarious to watch. It’s also nice to have a handyman around when I need to hang up curtain rods or pictures, or when a really awesome, newly purchased lamp needs to be put together. And ya know, Dallas cooks a lot better than I do, so there’s that.

Stay tuned for more tales of Dallas’s housebreaking.