the return of Mr.Q
Not even taking into account his oh-so grand 150 lb presence, there is no question that Mr.Q has returned from Vegas.
Anyone who set foot in the house before Thursday and again after Friday would be absolutely clear that some profound change had taken place. And said people would certainly not need to be trained CSI-types. Let us examine the irrefutable evidence:
1. a bomb has gone off in the kitchen. How is it that I can eat, and cover nearly all the requisite food groups, thank you, without causing major caustic damage to nearly every surface in the kitchen, whereas Mr.Q [bless his heart for actually enjoying cooking] can't boil water without using every pot, pan, dish and dish rag known to man?
2. there are dead animal parts in my fridge. I am not, technically, a vegetarian, but I have leanings. And there is now way more meat in my immediate vicinity than I am thrilled about.
3. I can no longer see the bedroom floor. All right, I'll admit it: I do not hang all my clothes up right away. I do, however, keep them in a contained little pile in the corner. Mr.Q, on the other hand, likes to spread out: the suitcase remains open and unemptied and the clothing that he has worn, however briefly, since his return is strewn about floor and window seat. I can only assume it's akin to the dog pissing on every tree and rock outside.
4. the bathroom looks like a cross between the bedroom and the kitchen. Clothes have crossed the bedroom/bathroom threshold and the counters and towels have taken a beating. Boys, really, can be just icky.
5. the living room is under paper. All the papers and bills that were so neatly piled and sorted while Mr.Q was away have been, like his clothes in the bedroom, spread out over the couch, ottomans and table. I'm not sure why. Apparently, it' some sort of sorting technique...
Yes, it was a long week while he was away and I missed him and the cat and dog missed him and it is most welcome to have him back. It is much better to have him here instead of there. But, now, I kind of miss my house...
**********
New tenant: Vandelay Industries. Be sure to check him out - he's got some great posts including the 20 things he doesn't care about. He does seem to have a thing for baseball, but we'll forgive him that. As always, a tough choice - looking forward to seeing everyone else at the next round!
Don't forget to keep tabs on Scooter too - he's joined the Previous Tenants in the sidebar.
Anyone who set foot in the house before Thursday and again after Friday would be absolutely clear that some profound change had taken place. And said people would certainly not need to be trained CSI-types. Let us examine the irrefutable evidence:
1. a bomb has gone off in the kitchen. How is it that I can eat, and cover nearly all the requisite food groups, thank you, without causing major caustic damage to nearly every surface in the kitchen, whereas Mr.Q [bless his heart for actually enjoying cooking] can't boil water without using every pot, pan, dish and dish rag known to man?
2. there are dead animal parts in my fridge. I am not, technically, a vegetarian, but I have leanings. And there is now way more meat in my immediate vicinity than I am thrilled about.
3. I can no longer see the bedroom floor. All right, I'll admit it: I do not hang all my clothes up right away. I do, however, keep them in a contained little pile in the corner. Mr.Q, on the other hand, likes to spread out: the suitcase remains open and unemptied and the clothing that he has worn, however briefly, since his return is strewn about floor and window seat. I can only assume it's akin to the dog pissing on every tree and rock outside.
4. the bathroom looks like a cross between the bedroom and the kitchen. Clothes have crossed the bedroom/bathroom threshold and the counters and towels have taken a beating. Boys, really, can be just icky.
5. the living room is under paper. All the papers and bills that were so neatly piled and sorted while Mr.Q was away have been, like his clothes in the bedroom, spread out over the couch, ottomans and table. I'm not sure why. Apparently, it' some sort of sorting technique...
Yes, it was a long week while he was away and I missed him and the cat and dog missed him and it is most welcome to have him back. It is much better to have him here instead of there. But, now, I kind of miss my house...
New tenant: Vandelay Industries. Be sure to check him out - he's got some great posts including the 20 things he doesn't care about. He does seem to have a thing for baseball, but we'll forgive him that. As always, a tough choice - looking forward to seeing everyone else at the next round!
Don't forget to keep tabs on Scooter too - he's joined the Previous Tenants in the sidebar.
posted by Jenn at
11:56 a.m.
2 Comments:
It's a guy thing. We get really nervous when everything is neat and tidy. Maybe it's a throwback to the caveman days when we had to defend our stuff, and if it was not in plain sight it may have been stolen! It woudl explain the animal parts too!
aaahhh. It's all becoming a little clearer now... :P Not any saner, but clearer.
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