7/03/2006

The squeaky wheel gets the grease Our bed's been squeaking. (Insert obvious joke here.) I've been suggesting for weeks that perhaps the bolts connecting the headboard to the frame have loosened. From time, OK? The other day, we'd been cleaning the house then collapsed on the sofa for a few hours watching something on tv. Since I can't remember what it was, it certainly wasn't that memorable. Oh, wait. We did watch an episode of Entourage (yay!). Other than that though, I think I remember complaining that there was nothing on and that I was going to bed. I got upstairs and climbed into bed. Squeak, squeak, squeak. I fluffed my pillow. Squeak, squeak, squeak. I breathed. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Then my husband came trucking up the stairs with the carry-all of cleaning products. It was 11 p.m. "What are you doing?" "I'm gonna clean the bathroom." "It's 11 o clock!" "So?" He dropped the supplies and came into the bedroom. "Well, could you help me make the bed first?" I hate getting into a messy bed. So we made the bed. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Squeak, squeak, squeak. "Oh yeah, I keep meaning to look at those bolts." I dropped my pillow into place against the headboard. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Squeak, squeak, squeak. "Well, you know there's a problem if a pillow makes it squeak." I was kind of annoyed. At the bed mostly, but the husband was close by. "I've been asking you for weeks to look at it." "It hasn't been weeks." "Yuh HUH." "But I think my wrenches are out in the truck." "Well, I think you better go get them." Mumble, mumble. "What?!" "You heard me." "No, I really didn't. What did you say!?" "Well, I think I said 'I think you better shut up,'" he said as he went down the stairs. What? We're supposed to argue, right? I mean we've been married for seven years. These things happen. Oh, OK. I left out a detail or two. The secret is that we were laughing the whole time. That's why I couldn't hear what he said after I told him he better go get the tools out of his truck. I can't remember a time when we've hurled mean comments at each other. Sure, we have our moments. What married couple doesn't get on each other's nerves once in a while? But 95 percent of the time, we enjoy being together. Which is why it's funny when one of us (mockingly) plays the part of the shrewish wife or the jerkish husband. In any event, the bed isn't squeaking (him), the bathroom is clean (again him) and the bedroom is nice and vacuumed (me). And that was Saturday night at 11.

3 Comments:

Blogger Alyssa said...

My husband likes to do random, loud stuff late at night too. Like he's talking about sawing - I told him no sawing after 9. That's the rule my dad made at home and it's good enough for me.

Also - I fix the squeeky bed when the bolts are loose.

7/05/2006 08:39:00 PM  
Blogger Jasclo said...

Haha. You should have a sign. "No sawing after 9 p.m.!"

7/07/2006 01:09:00 PM  
Anonymous nabbalicious said...

From time... yuh-huh!

7/09/2006 11:41:00 PM  

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