Sunday, January 01, 2012

CherkyB, Father of the Year

Yes, it's a fresh new year, and this gives us the opportunity to grab the much-coveted Father of the Year trophy, even if just for a brief moment.

You see, yesterday for whatever reason, The Mrs. decided she would clean out her closet of all the "old clothes" that she "never wears anymore".

All you married people, of course, know that that is code for something that cannot ever be mentioned, not even in a whisper. But the fashion industry exists in large part to create a built-in reason to get rid of old clothes - they're "out of fashion" - so that marriage can exist happily without anyone ever having to mention the unmentionable.

She spent hours up there yesterday, and she even vacuumed the walk-in. When I went up there last night, she had wiped out about 90% of her clothes. It was vast expanses of empty hangers and space the likes of which we haven't seen since the moving van arrived the day after we got here.

Well, my darling Childrens spent most of that time sitting in the fambly room with me watching the last 6 episodes of Top Shot off the DVR (that we've been saving up for a special occasion) and waiting for the New Year, so they didn't really know the fury that was ongoing upstairs. Fast forward to this morning, where I am blissfully asleep in my nice warm bed when all of a sudden:
The Mrs.: [poke poke poke] "Hey, I'm going to see the king."

Me, CherkyB: [startled awake] "Huh? What? What king?"

The Mrs.: [speaking very slowly, as if to an idiot - which I hesitate to even write here, as this has actually been her normal way of communicating to me since she had childrens and decided I was largely superfluous, though she hasn't figured out how to replace my income yet and is thus filled with resentment] "Iiiiii'mmmmm goooooiiiiiinnnnggg sssshhhhhoooooppppppiiiiinnnnngggg. Alone."

Me, CherkyB: [rolling over to go back to sleep] "Great."

The Mrs.: "There's pizza in the garage fridge that needs to be eaten."

Me, CherkyB: "Bye bye."
Later, I got up. I was in the kitchen making my coffee, which is much easier now that we have a Cuisinart machine that does single-serving K-cups. MaxieC asked me where Momma was, and I said, "She moved out." He laughed and went back to watching TV.

A few minutes later, after some consideration, this happened:
HannahC: "Really, Daddy, where is Momma, and when is she coming back?"

Me, CherkyB: "I told you, she moved out. She's not coming back."

HannahC: "Oh, come on."

Me, CherkyB: "Yeah. She packed up all her stuff and left. She even packed up all her clothes. Have you seen her closet?"

[HannahC runs upstairs...checks closet]

HannahC: "Daddy! What's going on? Did Momma actually leave?"

Me, CherkyB: "No. She packed up all her old clothes to give to the Goodwill, and now she's gone out to buy all new clothes."

HannahC: "Daddy!!! You're a jerk!!!"
Then she burst into tears and ran into her room. I haven't seen her since.

Maybe she moved out.


Rhonda said...

you mean thing! LOL

Yoda said...

"Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you?"

Harrison Balzonya said...

I wish I could get my wife to move out. What's your secret?

blogauthor said...

I cleaned out my closet recently too.

I love Top Shot!