Sunday, November 18, 2007

practically perfect in every way

Today jparks and I started cleaning and organizing for Thanksgiving. This means that he aimed a can of spray paint at my shoes and threaten to use it if I didn't unpack the last four boxes from the move. Because, yes, 3 1/2 months post move I was still staring at four rather large boxes in my office. Why unpack them when my feet rest so nicely on the top? Apparently jparks did not feel the same way and I am now down to two boxes. The plan is to have them totally emptied and gone by Wednesday when the real cleaning crew comes.

While I was dealing with the boxes, jparks was micromanaging me hanging pictures and breaking light fixtures. shhh, don't tell him I told you that last part. He claims the previous inhabitants of this house broke it and he just fell prey to how it was "fixed". Don't you like how the blame went somewhere other than on him. Just like when he hung three pictures next to each other and then decided the middle one was slightly off. This was, of course, not his fault. The blame fell on the middle frame which, according to jparks, is slimmer and taller than the other two, identical frames.

Sometimes it's hard being married to the World's Most Perfect Man. But I figure someone's got to do it otherwise the women of the world would just follow jparks everywhere. Those not following and throwing themselves at him would just sit all day and fantasize about how rugged, manly and perfect he is. Men, unable to get dates, would spend days wondering how they could be more like him, why they can't seem to achieve the same level of perfection that he has. See, I'm taking the grenade for the rest of the world.

You're welcome.


  1. Practically perfect, indeed. It's as if jparks floated down on a magical umbrella to save us from our unruly, slovenly, mischievous ways.

  2. I think our husbands have a lot in common :)

  3. Hm, I think if my husband threatened my shoes with a can of paint, I'd threaten his computers with a sledgehammer.