I spent much of today cleaning in my most obnoxious anal-retentive way, which means I vaccuumed cobwebs, degreased the leather sofas, scrubbed the baby gates and then ran out of time to finish doing the dishes or the bathrooms. I'll have to get up early tomorrow to finish the REAL cleaning. Although the cleaner my house is, the LESS likely it is that anyone will actually show up for 9AM playgroup.
Someday I'm going to refer back to this summer as the Great Tomato Debacle of 2005. Two months ago I bought and planted a Better Boy from Home Despot. It loves the evil-hot sun of our patio and has really thrived. I'm only a week away from my first harvest. The harvest which my husband has REFUSED to eat and which I am expressly forbidden to feed to our son. We're talking about tomatoes here, fresh, grown in my own yard, and yet, according to my husband, unfit for human consumption. The reason? I'm "too lazy" to let the hose run before I water the damn things and Dave thinks the water that sits in the hose "baking in the sun all day" is pure poison. And that eating my tomatoes will give you cancer. I think he needs a lobotomy. You decide.
Normally, I just go along with these crazy idiosyncracies (hello! I scrubbed the baby gate today with a toothbrush!), but I keep forgetting to let the hose run before I water the plants and he keeps spying on me while I'm out on the patio and so we keep fighting about it. Over and over again. And it's fights like these that come to mind whenever I watch cheesy romantic comedies that always, always end with the wedding. There should be more movies that end, say, 8 years in, after the couple really, truly runs out of IMPORTANT things to fight about. Because these idiotic fights about nothing are INFINITELY MORE entertaining.
One more tiny anecdote before I go make hot love to my husband so he'll forgive me when he reads this post tomorrow: our garbage disposal stopped working on Friday. So I called my Dad to the rescue (thank god for my dad! I don't have a honey-do list, I have a Papa-do list!) So, while they were in the kitchen trying to figure it out, Dave went to turn it on and flipped the switch for our patio light instead. We've lived here for over a YEAR and my husband has never used the garbage disposal. Not once. Screw "domestic goddess" - I'm a fricking domestic SAINT.
You know, I had a big list of reasons why he shouldn't be worried about that tomato, but you've probably given him all the same reasons already, and why would he listen to a complete stranger over YOU? Eat that tomato yourself, and really enjoy it. There is nothing tastier than home-grown tomato, and while it's a pity the boys had to miss out, it's nice to have a special treat to yourself once in a while.
Posted by: rachel | July 20, 2005 at 07:36 AM
So, what kind of tomatoes have you been buying? And are your home-grown ones organic?
Posted by: Amber Wyman | July 20, 2005 at 08:19 AM
Do you have any wiccan friends who can come do a tomato-cleansing/purifying ritual for you? Otherwise, I'll be happy to use some!
Also, I'm sure the tomatoes Dave DOES eat were watered by sprinklers that express all the day old hot baked water from their pipes (into a special bin where it's never again used on an innocent plant, but sent to the CIA where it's used in WMD development) before allowing the pure cool water to drench the tomato soil.
Posted by: Sheela | July 20, 2005 at 11:36 AM
I'd reply, but I'm laughing too hard at Sheela's post. That, and the fact, that once again, Dave proves that he is Adeeb's alter ego.
Posted by: Jamie | July 25, 2005 at 04:41 PM