Well. As long as Roy doesn’t know about it.
There’s a great big long list but these are 3 new ones add just this last week.
1) Never haul bricks in the car.
“It’s not a truck! We have a truck to haul things like that with and not in the car!”
In my defense, I can’t drive the truck. It’s unsafe for me to drive… well, I’m scare of it now. Don’t get me wrong. That truck and I have history. I’ve been screwed in it. I’ve been the ditch with it. I’ve ran thru the creek and drown the girls it. I’ve “jumped” the train tracks in it. I’ve let it roll down the driveway.
Well. Technically, it was the dog’s fault on the rollin’ down the driveway. The fact that I left it runnin’ and didn’t set the break on it is beside the point. The dog was so excited to be going to work with me that he was jumpin’ up and down and made it move… faster and faster… backwards… down the hill… and out the driveway.
Totally the dog!
Oh And I’m not the one that tried to tear the door off so it opens when you turn a corner. I’m not the one that broke the seat so I can’t move it forward anymore… It’s scary! I have to sit on the edge of the seat and hang on to the steerin’ wheel for dear life just to drive in the pasture.
Anyway, when we go to town in the truck, I may say to Roy I need some bricks or a bag of rocks or mulch or something, and he poopoo’s the idea and I don’t get my stuff.
So I have to do things on my own. In the car. I bought towels to put the landscapin’ edging brick thingys and I had them home, and unloaded and in place by the time he got home.
But I’m not to do it again… at least until I need more stuff.
2) Use HIS hair brush.
“You get long blonde hairs in it and it tickles me.”
He’s bald. Sorta.
OH BOO HOO!! I like his brush. It feels so good to have it scratch my head. So when he goes to bed, I use to brush my hair.
I always forget to clean it out. Or maybe I just leave the hair in there to get on his nerves!
“Go buy you a brush! And quit usin’ mine!” So I did. I didn’t like it. I couldn’t very well “test” in the store! I bought a boar’s hair brush and traded with him. If I don’t like it, I won’t use it.
It’s like his razor. I don’t like it so I don’t use it. But I have noticed that he will use mine! What’s up with that??
I think this is one thing I’m not “allowed” to do… like usin’ the weedeater… I will stick to! But haulin’ bricks, that’s ify.
3) I am not to be in the bathroom while he’s poopin’.
“Do not come in here! It bothers me to be watched while I’m poopin’”
Now you would think I could easily NOT DO THIS but there is always a reason I need to be in the bathroom while he’s in there… at anytime… even while he’s poopin’!
After almost 18 years, he’s finally put his foot down on me about bathroom boundaries. I think that is totally unfair. I’ve never been able to be in the bathroom alone! When the girls lived at home, that’s where we held family meeting’s!! One kid on the cabinet, Roy leanin’ against the cabinet, one kid in the doorway, while I’m sittin’ on the pot!!
So I find it perfectly normal to go into the bathroom to brush my teeth or dig around in my jewelry box while he’s in there.