The hubby wanted my Sunoco credit card to buy gas at the corner. I took it out of my wallet and handed it to him. He gets in the car and drives off. Three minutes later he comes back and says.."You didn't give me the card. I got all the way to the gas station (what...three big blocks away?) and I don't have it."
Well...I told him I gave it to him, then dumped my entire purse and wallet on the table. He asks me why I have a vegetable peeler in there...I don't know. Why would I know??? I think I was going to take it to my son's house one night for dinner, and they use a knife to peel potatoes. I am not allowed to touch a knife. Oh...I digress.
We search the entire house for this stupid card...then he frisks me! Yes...at another point in time I might have enjoyed this but I am going through Lexapro withdrawal and my brains feel like they are going to blow out of my ears. Plus...don't touch me. No . Never touch a woman who has just kicked the crap out of a brief case and a two text books that were left in the middle of the floor where I have to walk. Ya gotta love those SSRI's!
He goes through every coat pocket in the house. I search the car. I am in the back seat rooting around under the seats and I hear..."Never mind...I found it!"
Where? In his jacket pocket. Do you know he didn't realize he has a pocket in his jacket? What jacket on this planet doesn't have a pocket??? Only the half dozen he has pulled off the hangers and thoroughly searched! Yeah, right. And I never realized I don't look like Cher.
He DID go get gas and brought back two monster boxes of chocolate chip cookies, knowing this would soothe the beast in me. It did...ahhhhh. I feel them moving down my throat to my thighs as we speak.
I'm not the only one that loses things...and that's that.
Huggies
Donna