It's an interesting thing

to me.

We spent almost the entire weekend unpacking the garage so that The Mrs. could park her spanking new minivan in there (no word on how long it will be (if ever) before I can park my truck in there, too) before it started snowing. We worked and worked and worked. But the weekend eventually ended without the garage being cleared enough to park in any of the three bays.

Thing is, there is more than enough floor space to park in there, now. I moved almost everything out of the center bay (the one in which The Mrs. will be parking), but I left like two very light boxes and The Childrens's wagon in the way. I did this to see if The Mrs. would be self-motivated enough to do about 30 seconds worth of work so that she could park in the garage. I even programmed the Homelink remote buttons in her new van so that she could just push a button on the ceiling to open the garage doors. Then I sat back and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The Mrs. spends close to an hour every day washing the dog online with stupid stuff like IMing her mother, shopping for Christmas presents for The Childrens, replying to her sister's posts on the family web page complaining about her last boyfriend, and, biggest waste of time of all, reading and replying to the posts I put up here on Me, CherkyB. Heck, just Monday night she spent half an hour watching deleted scenes and other bonus footage stuff on the DVD of "Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story". So parking in the garage is a lower priority for The Mrs. than watching a 5-minute documentary about why seeing people get hit with a dodgeball is really only funny if they get hit in the head or in the junk.

Every now and then, when I'm out there, I push something an inch or two farther out of the way. It's killing me to see it so close to usable, but without being.

I'm starting to think that's her plan. Devious The Mrs.

Self, be strong.