It's pretty typical, the minute Husband instills the most minute bit of faith in me, I throw it out the window, or rather..unplug it. I suppose I should've let him ride the high from last night. Sweetly, he'd let me play video games with him, patiently stopping to explain why I shouldn't be "pressing buttons like crazy" and why I should be "capturing the flag instead of shooting yourself by accident". Darling man... And just as the evening was ending, I'd begun to get the hang of it, mastering something that requires electricity. Husband was proud, I was happy, and first thing this morning, I got up and threw his faith in me away...
I have a theory. When Husband and I were dating, I used to walk around with big doe eyes, thinking my soul mate and I were brought together because the stars had aligned and the cosmos had determined that no more two perfect individuals had ever needed to find each other. After four years together, I'm now convinced God brought him to me so I wouldn't accidentally light myself on fire.
You see, Readers, I have a few things I'm good at, and dealing with electronics is not one of them. Seriously, I operate in a constant state of shock I manage to publish this blog without, somehow, cutting-off power to the rest of the neighborhood. I've been like this for years, and Husband is the only person who can walk me through it.
"Honey, I've told you it's "Guide" first, then "Menu", then you can "Scroll". Say it with me, "Scroooolll to find my channel".
"Sweetheart, no. I've told you you're not allowed to use the drill. What do you mean "it's going backwards"? How bout you put it back on the work bench and I'll look at the "damn thing" when I get home?.
"For the last time, if it says, "You've just won a million dollars", don't click on it. You haven't won a million dollars, you've won a million viruses. Don't pout, I'm trying to keep our computer in one piece."
Yet, the man lies beside me, every night, knowing full-well I may try to turn on the TV, in the dark, and blow us all to smithereens. That's courage...or love....or blind faith. Either or, I had the unpleasant duty of disillusioning him once again.
"Morning, Sweetie. How's it goin'?"
"Good, good. Just opened all the windows."
"Why'd you open the windows if the air conditioning's on?"
"It's not on. I think it's broken. I mean, I toggled the upstairs one, but it wouldn't come on."
"Wait...the upstairs one? We don't have separate air conditioners for each floor. Honey? What did you do?"
(And now the part where I lent my expertise)
"I know there aren't separate ones for each floor, but after I toggled....yes, "toggled"...it's a technical term...I didn't hear any noises denoting cold air coming at us, so I opened the windows. I would've gone down and flipped the breakers, but I was too tired..."
I was assured that it wasn't broken, and that, yes, I could do what I wanted with the windows, but to "Not flip the breakers, please. I'm serious." Unfortunately, I fear I've built a steady stream of anxiety in Husband that won't disperse until he pulls into driveway and sees the house isn't on fire. At any rate, I've gotta run. I only have a few more hours to figure out which breakers route to the outside. Sometimes Husband doesn't know when he needs help...
Until Next Time, Readers!