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49 Drops of Poop, and Progress

This afternoon and evening I:
Cleaned, badly and frantically, 49 drops plus one pile of dog poop in the ten minute interval between when I discovered the poop, and when I had to leave the house with the kids in order to deliver Sam and Lily to their ballet recital rehearsal. (Expect pics tomorrow!) Just fyi, in case you were thinking of getting a dog (and ours are house trained, this is unusual, but still) each and every drop had to be cleaned individually. Off the carpet. With a paper towel. And then Rob had to do it again when he got home, because my effort was necessarily cursory.

Had a fight with Rob. (As usual, this consisted of him saying something to piss me off, then me yelling briefly, then slamming things around while he sulked, the yelling some more while he sulked, then finally making peace while he sulked. Our fights are a lot of work for me.)

Finally emptied 7 boxes of stuff I’d ordered and had sent to us in, um, March, that had been sitting in the hallway, two of which were large enough to put all four children in, and still have room for what I’d actually ordered, minus the packaging. (Those two were three fans and a comforter.) Were the boxes the subject of the fight?

Kinda. The subject was me saying I thought I wanted to build some cabinets in the same hallway, but wasn’t going to because I didn’t like the carpenter I’d talked to (among other things, he was a heavy smoker and reeked, and I could just see him smoking in the driveway. Apparently I will vote for a smoker for President but won’t allow one to build me shelves. Incidentally that was a major compromise for me, because the thing is, although I like the occasional cigarette–as in, every two years or so–as a habit it’s just dumb. No gettin’ around it. Poor judgment. But I digress…)

Rob: Let us not build any cabinets until we finish all the other stuff we have started around here. (For we you can read “you”, meaning, of course, me.)

What stuff, you’re totally wrong, I know the house isn’t finished but how will it ever get finished, blah blah blah blah ok there are some things like that but I am still pissed at you and the door to the closet where i want to build cabinets is broken and I can’t get to the recycling and blah blah.

Rob: I can fix that.

Me: No, it is broken, it will never be fixed, nothing will ever look finished, you are right, it doesn’t look right, even when I’m done it doesn’t look right, it will never, ever look like Tanya’s house, never.

Sulking on both sides. Banging on mine. I begin to clean. Rob begins to fix the closet door in the hallway with the boxes. I open the boxes. I empty them all. Most of them are things for Rory or for the trip to China.

Gee, what unfinished project do you think is bothering us?


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