Things Dan Wishes He Hadn't Done, Part Infinity

I wish I could say this is the first time he's made this mistake, but I would be lying. He's actually done it before.

It's been one of those weeks. I'm bitchy, bloated, crampy, achy, miserable, hormonal, whiny, unpredictable, and craving Peanut Butter Snickers (which they don't carry anywhere in this Godforsaken place. ANYWHERE).

Pretty much, between the Pity Parties and the Pissing All Over Everyone Else's Parade, I've been a busy girl this week.

Then this happened:

Unfortunately, when it happened? I wasn't prepared. So I sent Dan to the store with a very explicit list AND A PHOTOGRAPH of what I wanted him to get. Because, like I said: He has made some serious errors in this area before.

He not only had the instructions of what to purchase on a list, he also had in his possession a cell phone with an equally explicit text message.

I literally left no room for error.

To recap:

1. He had a list. An explicit list.

2. He had a photograph on his phone of what to purchase.

3. He had an equally explicit text message on his phone, which he had on his person and could use to call if he had any questions.

Kotex.

No freaking wings.

I hate wings.

No brand except Kotex.

In this case, I have serious brand loyalty. There will be no deviation.

Maxi pads.

Long.

No more, no less.

And yet? He came home with this:

In case you're wondering, yes... those are, indeed, bladder control pads. Potty pads for pissy old ladies. It says so right on the bag. The bag also does not have the word "Kotex" anywhere on it.

Even sadder, he has done this exact same thing before. Exact. Same. Thing.

AND he did it at the Big M, where my reputation is already questionable. Now I'm a crazy lady with horrible taste in ring tones who can't tell the difference between chicken and fish and who also pees her pants.

Worst of all, I think I accidentally married a dumbass.

Because really? There is no other explanation.

Sorry, honey. I still love you. But I'm going to keep sending you to the store to buy me Kotex UNTIL YOU GET IT RIGHT.

It's the only way you're going to learn.

Chillin' and Relaxin' all coool....

By most accounts (well, mine, at any rate), I am a fairly level -headed, easygoing person. (No, really... I am. I am. Yes I AM! Well, FUCK you then!) I can go with just about any flow and I take bad news and most of life's many, MANY kicks in the pants with grace, dignity and good humor.

(I DO TOO! What do YOU know? Who are you, anyway?)

Very few things get me rattled. Actually, the list is so small as to be practically non-existent. These are the things that knock me for a loop and make me freak out in my own special way:

1. Running out of toilet paper. That right there, is a biggie. If I notice that I'm down to less than half a roll and there isn't any more in the house, I lose it. No really, I do. I sent Dan to the store yesterday with $5 in quarters to get an emergency supply until I could go to Walmart to stock up. (I was sitting on the toilet when I sent him. It wasn't a proud moment, for sure... but it was effective.)

Me: *bellowing* "Dan! DAN!! We're almost out of toilet paper!!

Dan: "What?"

Me: *louder* WE'RE ALMOST OUT OF TOILET PAPER!"

Gah! I can hear myself echoing down the pipes and into Mr. Awesome's apartment.

(Did you get that, Mr. Awesome? Did you and all your friends that you had over yesterday watching football get that?)

Dan, of course, still can't hear me.

Dan: "Huh? Can't hear youuuu...."

Me: *grabbing my cell, because yeah... I'm one of those people who talks on the phone while I'm in the bathroom. Deal with it* "Ring ring...."

Dan: "Hello?"

Me: "We're almost out of toilet paper."

Dan:

Me:

Dan: "Soooooo...?"

Me: "So go get some. Take change out of my purse."

Dan: "Now???"

Me: "YES NOW! I'M IN THE BATHROOM AND I NEED TOILET PAPER!"

(Okay, that was a slight exaggeration. I had half a roll and I wasn't in dire emergency. But like I said, when that's all that's left, I panic. You never know what is going to happen. You just DON'T.

2. Running out of coffee. No coffee is a bad, bad thing. No coffee makes everyone very. afraid. We do not run out of coffee. Ever. It's too horrible to even contemplate. When I notice my coffee getting low I get a little frantic. I've been known to send Dan to the store at midnight just to buy me coffee in case I don't have quite enough to make a smooth, rich pot in the morning. (This is why I'm married, by the way. I don't like running to the store for anything. It's HIS job to hit the all night grocery stores for Tums, Kotex, Toilet Paper, Coffee, NyQuil, Tylenol, and Pamprin. It's my job to stay home relaxing on the couch while he does that.)

3. Mayonnaise: You can read all about that here: http://deathbycupcakes01.blogspot.com/2011/09/grosscondimentophobia.html

Because I WILL lose my shit over mayonnaise.

4. Bats: Anything that flies and could land in my hair. Because if it flies and lands in my hair, I will assume it's a bat and react accordingly. "Reacting Accordingly" involves Full Blown Stationary Panic, with screaming and slapping myself in the head and face until it's gone or dead. (My apologies to the baby bird I beat to death when it landed in my hair.)

Other than the above? I'm chill, yo.

And since Dan freaks out about literally everything else, we balance eachother out.