If you aren't in the mood to listen to me rant and rave, run. Run away quickly. Now, I've warned you, so if you keep reading, it's not my fault that you've wasted about five minutes of your day.
This rant has to do with the suitcase you see to the right. Well, it's more of a carry-on, but no matter what it's called, it is the topic of this post. Actually, theHansMan (aka: Swamp Drainer and Anode Man) is the topic of this post.
I shall preface this rant with a brief history of one of theHansMan's pet peeves. He has many. This is one of them. He travels a lot which requires that his clothes be placed in something. He has been known to pack using plastic bags and ice chests.
We have a large assortment of random pieces of luggage. Most of which are missing wheels, handles, and those thingys you grab to open and close a zipper. I do not care to have these lovely items strewn around my house. We have a closet for them. That closet is downstairs. And when I say downstairs, I mean DOWNstairs in the basement. There is also a closet upstairs that houses several pieces of luggage which makes it handier to retrieve them when one does not want to go DOWNstairs. But, since we've had company using that closet the last few weeks, I removed the luggage to make room for our guests so they didn't have to do high jumps over them.
If you are still reading, I'm sorry. (Insert **yawn**here.)
theHansMan has on many occasions reprimanded me for taking all the luggage DOWNstairs. He would rather line the pieces up in the hallway upstairs to keep it handy. None of the luggage matches my furniture, so that is not an option. It must be housed out of sight somewhere. Having to go DOWNstairs to get a piece of luggage will morph him into a funk-pout. So much of a funk-pout, I always offer to go DOWNstairs and fetch it for him. Thus, keeping him in a fairly good mood. Have I mentioned that he has no cartilage in his knees?
In other words, if I'm not going to allow him to display our luggage collection in plain sight, and if I fail to keep a few pieces in the upstairs closet, then I will gladly go get him a suitcase. No problem. I need the exercise. I have counted the stairs. There are twenty-eight of them.
Fast forward to yesterday morning. It's 1:00 a.m. I have just finished a project and head to bed. It sounds like a chain saw has gotten loose in our bedroom and is trying to escape. I choose to sleep in the guest room. The room with the closet that I keep the extra luggage in but has no luggage in it because I took it DOWNstairs because we had company.
Fast forward to 4:00 a.m. I hear someone rummaging around in that closet. I hear someone grumble, "I travel half my life...I need a _____ing suitcase. (expletive deleted)
My feet hit the floor running because I know that at 4:00 in the morning one of his funk-pouts will only progress into a full-blown case of crotchety-crabby-mad-a$$.
"Do you want me to go get you a suitcase?" I yawn.
"Grumble, grumble, groan, gritch..."he mumbles something undecipherable.
A few minutes later, I gently place the suitcase on the bed throw through the suitcase through door and head back to bed. After all, it was my fault that the suitcases weren't in the UPstairs closet.
He leaves.
Fast forward to 7:00 p.m. I walk into our bedroom and guess what I see? Yup. You guessed it. That carry-on you saw at the beginning of this rant. The one he used three days ago from another trip.
Fast forward to 7:01 p.m. Phone call goes something like this:
Me: Hey. Remember waking me up at 4:00 this morning to go get you a suitcase?
Him: Huh?
Me: You heard me. I didn't stutter.
Him: Yeah.
Me: Why didn't you use the suitcase that was in our bedroom?
Him: I didn't see it.
Me: How could you not see it? You had to have tripped over it to get out of bed !
Him: It was dark.
Me: Those little switches on the wall? You know ? If you flip them up, a light comes on just like magic.
Him: I didn't want to wake you up.
Me: I wasn't in the room.
Him: Oh. Why weren't you in the room? Was I snoring again?
Me: Either that, or the ceiling fan a helicopter was coming in for a landing. You woke me up at 4:00 this morning, slamming crap things against the wall, growling like a bear that you needed a _____ing suitcase. (expletive deleted again) I asked if you wanted me to go DOWNstairs and get one for you because I knew there weren't any in that closet you were rummaging around in. You said, "Well, I need one to pack my clothes in." Why didn't you use the one that was in our bedroom? It was already half-packed.
Him: Huh? I think I'll be home tonight. I won't need what's in the suitcase anyway.
**house grows dark**
**neighborhood grows dark**
**Swampy blows all the fuses and the breaker box is smokin'**
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Congratulations to Nekked Lizard Lady. She was my 10,000th commenter. Please give me suggestions as to what you think she should win.
