Friday, March 06, 2009
Loren The Robot Maid
In an attempt to stop dreaming up inventions and actually do something productive, I start organizing the walk-in closet in the master bedroom. It’s supposed to be a "walk-in," but it’s more like a "crawl into, attempt to stand, then trip in" closet. First I take apart two steel baker’s racks and put them in the hall. Then I drag Milk Man to Home Depot in a blizzard to buy Closet Maid kits. He starts screwing the tracks into the closet walls. It takes him two hours to put the first two up, and then the drill needs to be charged overnight.
Obviously, I didn’t marry Bob the Builder, but luckily, he’s my father. When we really get into a home improvement jam dad comes to the rescue. It turns out that I am good at house projects. Milk Man is smarter than me in some ways, and stronger, no doubt. In fact next month he’ll be Dr. Milk Man after he defends his dissertation, but he has no patience with home improvement tasks. He hates doing them. I knew this going into marriage, and accepted it, planning to use his brains to make the money necessary to pay a professional.
The next morning, after Milk Man goes to work and the children are fed, I go in my closet and put up the rest of the shelves and poles. It takes me about an hour. Then I put everything back in order. After this accomplishment I’m on a home improvement high. I put poles in three more closets in other rooms, and organize them. Milk Man is astonished when he sees what I’ve done. He’s calls me Rosie the Riveter. I feel more like Rosie, the Jetson’s robot maid.
The last thing I do is pull some of Milk Man's college texts off a shelf and alter the titles. This is my indirect way of saying, "Since I busted my #@! putting the closet in order, it would make me happy if you used the GPS system in your Bling mobile to locate a hanger and a shoe rack as you pull into the driveway undressing."
Is this passive-aggressive behavior?
I pause to wonder in my beautiful, newly organized closet. Yes. I believe I am part Irish/Scottish, so I'll blame it on those jeans...I mean genes.
Dear Internet Traveler,
Welcome to my writer's blog, started about six years ago for fun. Over time, the writing I have posted has ranged from personal reflection, to Long Island history research, to tall tales for my own amusement, to feature articles for local newspapers. As you can see from topics listed here, I travel in many mental directions in regard to interests. Click on the tabs and labels to explore my strange mind which senses that you may be having a criss-cross day. If so, perhaps this blog will distract you. However, please note that if you tell me my blog is beautiful just to get me to advertise rhinoplasty surgery and cheap drugs from Canada in your comment, I will ask the gods to give you a tail that cannot be concealed.