Thursday, August 18, 2011

How I Got My Roomba

Okay, so.  In my last post I mentioned my Roomba (or my You Mother Fucker Roomba as I call it when I want to yank TWH's chain).  Here goes...
Back in April, my Mother was driving down to Shreveport from Montana to attend her 50th High School Reunion.  On her way to Shreveport, she was coming HERE.  To my HOUSE.  For the first time EVER.   Of course, I went into Defcon 5 cleaning mode.  I had a pretty hefty list of things I wanted to get spiffy for my Mother's visit.  I'm talking crap like power washing the house, cleaning the baseboards, doing the windows.  Heavy-duty spring cleaning here.  TWH dutifully pitched in and started on the kitchen while I started on the bathroom.  Now, my poor hubby obviously didn't realize we were cleaning EVERYHTING that could ever get dirty, grimy, or dusty.  Once he realized that, his excitement (minimal to begin with) began to wane and the bitching began.  "How much do I have to do??" "Are we gonna be doing this all day??" "Not to harp on you or anything, (Always a precursor to a good ass riding, BTW) but I've had a really long week and I'd hoped to relax some today.  I didn't realize you were going to clean to this extent and I don't know if I wanna do all that"  Blah, blah, blah.  I listened quietly, while STILL cleaning (I had stuff to do, after all) until I couldn't take any more.  I put down my sponge & cleaner, turned to my sweet, darling, Hubby, and uttered the following words "You MOTHER FUCKER".  Now, any man worth anything KNOWS that these words are cause for two reactions. #1 a sphincter-puckering burst of fear because you have awoken the Screaming Banshee  & #2 a mental review of the list of Appropriate Suck Up Gifts because you are now obligated to buy one of these based on the size of the Hissy Fit that follows those three dreaded words.  Mine was a Roomba.  I had been begging for one of those For-Ever.  My Crackhaid Dawg sheds enough on a daily basis to create another Dawg & keeping up with the drifts of fur had become a second full-time job.  As we were preparing for bed the next day TWH says "By the way, I ordered you a present today".  I was nice, and didn't look too smug when I asked "Is it a Roomba??"   Hee hee hee.   So, there ya go. The story of how I got my (You Mother Fucker) Roomba.

Side Note: TWH SWEARS that is not why I got the Roomba.  I disagree since that's how I relate the events in my head.  That's my story & I'm sticking to it.  Besides, telling people he found it on and bought one to shut me up isn't nearly as entertaining.

1 comment:

  1. I about blew red koolaid out my nose when I read this. Funny stuff. We are definitely related to Horace Gilbert.


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