This past weekend, we got to enjoy time at home for the first time in a while, with essentially nothing on our agenda. It was going to be awesome. Like, literally, nothing we had to do. Oh, sweet, unscheduled weekend, how we’ve missed you!
On Saturday morning, RJ calls me from the other room.
“Alice? Do you know where my extra contacts are? I can’t find them!”
Me: “What happened to your current pair?”
RJ: “They felt funny, so I need a new pair!”
Internal dialogue: “Good grief, this guy has gone through more contacts in the two months that he’s had contacts than I have in the past year!”
Me: “Okay, well where did you last see them?”
RJ: “I don’t know, but I can’t find them anywhere!”
Me: “They’re not with my extra contacts?”
RJ: “No, I checked!!”
Internal dialogue: “Well, maybe you should have just kept them with my contacts in the first place like I told you to! Blah, whatever, it can’t be that hard to find, I know I saw them somewhere.”
Later, on our walk with Daisy, after we spent the entire morning looking for his spare contacts without success.
Me (jokingly but #kiddingnotkidding): “Dude, I would be so mad if your contacts ended up being right in front of our face the whole time!”
RJ: “Hey, so then how about if we agree to just laugh about it instead and forget about the ‘getting mad” part?”
A couple hours later, after turning our closets inside out, pulling out clothes from the dresser, looking in the car, looking in the garage, checking and DOUBLE checking my bag of contacts that I responsibly put in the same location for as long as I’ve lived in the house, finding ANY conceivable place where RJ may have squirreled away his contacts.
Internal dialogue: “This is LITERALLY so irritating. If he had just listened to me when I told him to keep our contacts together then I wouldn’t be wasting my day finding his stupid contacts. He NEVER listens to me! Why doesn’t he ever listen to me?? I mean, does he just not respect me?? IS IT BECAUSE I’M A WOMAN? He is just so irresponsible!!”
And then moderate argument (we’ve had worse for sure) where internal dialogue comes out, then cool-down. It’s decided that 8 boxes of missing contacts must be at my sister’s house, for whatever unknown and illogical reason. We ask sister and brother-in-law to look for missing contacts. We agree to stop looking hardcore, but it is CONSTANTLY on my mind for the next day because I HAVE PROBLEMS AND OCD.
Internal dialogue over course of the next day: “Grumble grumble grumble, but what if they’re NOT at Jenny and Alby’s house?? Grumble grumble grumble, what if they can’t find them?? That’s like $250 that he just threw in the toilet! Grumble grumble, why can’t he just be logical and responsible like ME and keep his contacts in one place?? Grumble grumble, well, if he thinks we’re just going to buy a whole new set of contacts just like that, he’s got something else coming! Grumble grumble, ugh, but I don’t want to like shame him for not remembering, some people just have a harder time remembering and he feels terrible already, I should just show him grace. BUT THIS IS SO ANNOYING AND SO NOT OKAY, HOW CAN HE BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE AND WHY DIDN’T HE JUST LISTEN TO ME!!!”
And since I don’t want to shame him anymore for his absentmindedness, but I’m an extrovert and so I need to externally process, I’m just mumbling to Daisy over the course of the next day as I check and recheck in random places. “Daisy?? Where could he have put them??” “Daisy, why didn’t he just listen to me??” “UGH, Daisy, this is super annoying!” “Daisy, why would he bring ALL of his contacts to San Diego? That just doesn’t make sense!!”
And then Daisy just looks up at me, cocks her little head, and blinks because SHE’S JUST A DOG. But geez, is she cute. Okay, she makes me feel better.
Finally on Sunday night, after spending the WHOLE FREAKING WEEKEND looking for the contacts, I text my sister to ask her to look through her home again, maybe ranting, maybe not. She and my brother-in-law start searching their home, and I’m thinking, “Good grief, now we’re wasting other people’s time.”
Jenny texts, “Text me a picture of what I’m looking for.”
So I text her a picture of the bag of contacts that I so responsibly put away in the same logical place, like a good responsible person would. And as I pulled out a boxed set of contacts to text a picture of the boxes, some scribbled writing on the boxes catch my eye. “RM L” and “RM R.”
Internal dialogue: “‘RM L’, ‘RM R’…what does tha- oh EFF.”
You GUYS. His contacts were in the same bag as my contacts THE WHOLE. FREAKING. TIME. BECAUSE HE ACTUALLY LISTENS TO ME. Nevermind that we both looked through the bag multiple times.
So I text Jenny, “I found them, shut up, I don’t want to talk about it.”
But the worst part of the whole thing? When I told RJ that I found his contacts and that they were exactly where they were supposed to be the whole time, he didn’t get mad at me for getting mad at him. He didn’t get upset that I assumed the worst about him. He didn’t give me crap for telling him how irresponsible he was and how if he had only listened to me, we would have avoided all of this. He jumped onto the bed, gave me a huge hug and a deep kiss, yelled out, “Kalua kalay!,” fist pumped, and then bounded out of the room back to his computer game like a puppy, as though I hadn’t give him crap all weekend long.
I know, you guys. I KNOW. You DON’T need to tell me. I am a #1, grade A, 100%, bona fide DEEBS. I am LITERALLY the WORST. And I’m a marriage and family therapist, for goodness sake, I should just know better, BUT I DON’T.
So yeah. That time with the contacts. That time where I was a real a-hole.Well. Now you know.
I have no discussion question. Just lay it on me. Go on. I’m the worst. Okay, maybe I do. Are YOU ever the worst? Or is it just me?