Kenny and I have a “marital chore” arrangement that basically delegates anything inside the house to me, and anything outside the house to him. Friends and family know, of course, that this excludes cooking, since Hubs hates untoasted Pop-Tarts (in every flavor. I know…baffles me too), which is the extent of my culinary expertise. He cooks, I clean, and we agree on that particular aberration in our Big Plan. Otherwise, he naps happily on the couch while I vacuum around him, and watches TV while I fold the clothes or unload the dishwasher, while I, in turn, roll over to tan the other side in the summer while he’s mowing and weed-whacking, both of us without guilt or feeling the need to get up and help.
Every now and then, there’s a tiny overlap when one of us (okay, usually me) needs to address a situation normally reserved for the other one, and our system runs into a small glitch. Kenny does not always handle these well, and over the years I’ve had to develop a rather impressive repertoire of shimmy dances to coax him back to his usual happy self. (I should note here than when you’re young, shimmy dances are kind of sexy and virtually 99% effective as an “I’m sorry,” and naked shimmy dances can take out the other 1% of problems in 2 seconds flat. Over 50, they tend to be more goofy than sexy, with body parts flying in opposite directions, but can at least elicit loud guffaws, at which point, assuming you’re not overly sensitive, you’re one step away from making up.)
So I’m driving out to an evening event, all dressed up in Spanx and stilettos, and I hear this weird thumping underneath my car, which is also getting hard to steer. Thump. Thump. Thump. WTH?? I’m not a mechanic, but I’m reasonably sure cars should not thump, so I turned the car around and headed back home for Kenny to fix it. In my defense, it was dark, the road was slushy, I was wearing fabulous heels, and it was a car thing (think outside the house), which made it a hubby-do.
As I thumped slowly back into the driveway, Kenny came running out, waving his arms, yelling, “You have a FLAT TIRE! WHY ARE YOU STILL DRIVING?!?” “Cars are your job,” I replied, calmly, “So here’s the car.” Good Lord, he was raving like I was a 3-year-old who put the family cat in the dryer. (Must men always be so theatrical??) It was a tire, not the transmission, and I drove slowly. Now he’s off to Les Schwab for something called a “rim,” and I have to come up with a whole new shimmy dance. This one may have to be naked.
Oh Vikki, it is the same around here with stuff like that, because I truly know nothing about cars. You would think having a father who was one hell of a car aficionado in his hey day that I would know a thing or two, but sadly I don’t!! As for the shimmy dance, you had me practically peeing my pants, lol!!
I want to see your shimmy dance at the office TODAY!
ha ha ha!!!! lmao In our house it’s a bit different. I handle the car. It’s one of those things that he’ll actually admit that I know more about than he does! lol (I admit, I LOVE cars). Good luck with that shimmy dance!! lmao
Crying with laughter reading this!! This is just SO FUNNY!! I totally agree that all car related issues fall to the husband!
I’m always getting in trouble for not immediately reporting a problem with my car. A problem that I didn’t notice, because I don’t know jack about cars. Last time, he rolled his eyes and said, “Should I just take your car for a drive once a month, to check that everything’s working?” Um, yes. Thanks for being so helpful!
Too funny. Sounds like something I would do!
I know nothing about cars. But I do do all the home repairs inside the house. Because I’m handy like that!
Let me just say shimmy dances over 40 are not that pretty either…not that I’ve tried or anything. :)
That would be me. Completely!
Hahahaha, I would have done the exact same thing Vikki!
LOL. My last husband drove my Cadillac. Back to the house on a flat or should I say flat rim. It was a good 20 miles. All the kids loved it. There was not dance for that. But will say with him an cars never a dull moment. I also learned how to tow cars home. Don’t ask LOL
Too funny and too honest your shimmy dance! At least your husband didn’t say “that’s what AAA is for!”
So glad I found your blog, you keep it so honest and say all the things I think.
Haha…shimmy dances with body parts flying in different directions. HAHA. Hilarious! Sorry about the flat tire, too…oops. LOL
well, the rim is part of the tire, so if the tire was flat then what else *could* the car ride on as you drove home?
sounds reasonable lol
funny Post
In the first 4 years of my marriage, the inside AND the outside were my deal, especially the car (shoulda gone to mechanic’s school with my brother – but I hate getting my hands dirty). After listening to hubby b*tch about me knowing more about all things mechanical, I sent hubby to school to learn how to be a mechanic. Now he knows almost as much as I do. LOL And as an added bonus, he’s picked up all duties OUTSIDE. So, when I set the laundry basket OUTSIDE, HE has to take it to the laundry mat. :D
Great post! Totally cracked up at the shimmy dance…may have to try that out some time when I want something. Might be easier than hog tying him until he gives. :D
Wait! There’s a “get out of jail free” card? I need to get shimming!
ug… shimmy-ing or shimmying or … I dunno…
Oh this is so funny!
Totally done the shimmy dance to get what I want… no shame in it. We also have a similar arrangement but I think I’ve been duped. We only have a terrace now but still a big apartment. Luckily I called bullshit and hired someone :P
Thanks for hooking up to the Hump Day Hook Up
Hmmm. The shimmy dance done naked is not so sexy when you’ve nursed two children. I’m just saying.
OK that totally cracked me up! My husband freaks out if I don’t have the wheels facing straight when I put the car in park. And don’t get me started on using the emergency brake! Who they heck uses an emergency brake when they park if they don’t live on a hill in San Francisco? Do you know how many times I got to the end of my street before I realized that incessant beeping was my car trying to tell me I was driving with the emergency brake on?!
Oh, so funny! He’ll forgive you. How could he not? If nothing else works, though, you may have to shimmy in those heels!