Familiarity Breeds Contempt, Episode Three

You can call off the search and rescue teams, I'm still here. Thanks, Sproglet, for checking in on me. I have no particular excuses other than life in general has been keeping me from writing -- the writing that I love to do and would do all day long if I was master of my own time and space.

Today was my first day back at work in quite a few days. I've been sick and have had in-laws visiting. Since we are short-handed at work and Rob was out much of the week before I had moved to the front office where I could see the door. Now I'm in the habit of working here and my own desk is a mess and so here I sit.

The last few days Rob has been complaining that I'm no longer working in the same office he's in.  This is what we've done for the last 800 9 years for better or for worse. We like it in addition to it being a habit. We wear the habit like a nice pair of broken slippers, slippers that sometimes end up with an annoying rock inside it that has to be shaken out.

For example, a little bit of shaking has to occur when your husband accuses you of being "one of those embarrassing moms". Pshaw, yeah, seriously.  Me?  Surely not.

I like to crochet and knit. I will be the first to admit that sometimes crocheted things can be really cheesy if not done well. I know this first hand because when I was 8 or 9 years old I had a vest and matching hat made out of yarn and beer cans that my grandmother made for me. Being that young I thought they were really cool and wore them all the time. I had one of those mothers who apparently didn't care what her daughter was dressed in.  (Or worse, maybe she thought they were cool, too. Now that I think about it, that wouldn't surprise me.)

I recently ran across a tiny little crochet doo-dad that would make a really fun gift for Halloween. My brilliant idea was to make 20 or so of these for the kids in Julius's class. Because what kid doesn't want a crocheted fake candy corn, right? According to my husband, the answer to that rhetorical question is, "None of them."

And so right after I went skipping like an excited spring lamb into his office (which is usually OUR office) and asking him to check his email right away because I had something to show him, we had the following conversation.

Me: Go check your email right away. This is so cool.

Him: What is that?

Me: It's candy corn! Isn't it cute?

Him: Why are you sending this to me?

Me: Don't you read my email? I said at the top why I am sending it to you.

Him: You're standing right next to me.

Me: Okay, well anyway, I thought I'd make some of those for J's class for Halloween. What do you think?

Him: Um, no. If you want to be one of those really embarrassing moms, yeah.

Me: What do you mean?

Him: Crocheted candy corn? Nobody wants crocheted candy corn. Why don't you make them something really cool like the ghost?

Me: I don't want to make a ghost. I like the candy corn. It's cute. How can you not think this is cute?

Him: It's really easy. Look, I'm just trying to help you be one of the COOL moms. Do the ghost. Or the pumpkin. The candy corn is a triangle. The kids are going to say, "Why is this lady giving me a crocheted triangle?"

Me: It's not a triangle, it's candy corn.

Him: Kids are not nostalgic. They're six. Do the ghost. Or the pumpkin.

About 10 minutes later I walk past the door to the office and see him waving me in. He's got a funny look on his face. It turns out he has my mother on the speaker phone. He explains to her the situation and insists in a smug kind of way that she tell us her opinion. He does this because he is certain she will agree with him.

My mother, because of her religious convictions doesn't want me to do the ghost. I asked her, ghost aside, which is more cool, the pumpkin or the candy corn?

She says, "Honey, I'm afraid I have to agree with your husband. The pumpkin does sound cuter."

I said, "I knew you would agree with him. You two are just alike. That's why you don't get along, because you're just exactly alike."

Both of them were yukking it up mightily. Ironic since they never agree on anything unless it's to disagree with me. Mom mentioned it takes the two of them to gang up on me to keep me in line.

I said, "Well, fine then. Just remember the next time you two are fighting and want me to referee -- just remember I think you both deserve each other."

And now it's time for an opinion poll. Let me put you on the speaker phone with my mom and Rob. Here you go: