Not to be all man-bashing or anything, but it’s time for some serious man bashing.

The weather here in Seattle has gone from cold and gloomy to hot hot HOT.

Which means there’s a whole lot of pasty skinned folk running around like chickens with our heads cut off. 

It’s so HOT!

What do we do in this heat?

How can we COOL OFF?!

When it’s cool, we moan and complain about the UNSEASONABLY COLD WEATHER.  But the minute it acts like summer we make like snowmen and head for the AC.  Because even a teeny-tiny drop of sweat is surely a sign of impending doom.

AGGGHHH!!! I’m sweating! DO SOMETHING!!!

We’re a fickle lot.

So I’m reading the forecast and I see that HOT WEATHER is expected for the weekend.

“Jay!” I say, “When you’re at Target why don’t you pick up a kiddie pool.”

Which seems like a fairly simple and straightforward task, even for a man.  Right?

WRONG.

Not to be all man-bashing or anything, but it’s time for some serious man bashing.

How is it that you can send a man to the store to get something and EVERY TIME he comes back with something that is NOT THE THING HE’S SUPPOSED TO HAVE GOTTEN?! And not only will he not buy the thing that you sent him to get in the first place, but he’ll replace that thing with something that you definitely certainly ABSOLUTELY do not want and would never buy!

So off Jay drives to “get a kiddie pool.”

Except somewhere between our house and the Target checkout counter he ends up with a Color Stream squirt gun (which, by the way, is NOT a kiddie pool).

Because, well, it’s a gun that shoots COLORS.  And CJ wanted it.

“CJ wants a lot of things,” I moan, “It doesn’t mean they’re a good idea!  And how are we supposed to COOL OFF without a kiddie pool?!”

But my argument is too little too late and even I know a losing battle when I see one.  So I go back to cleaning up.

The next thing I know there is brightly colored dye dripped across my kitchen. CJ is covered with the stuff, as is half of our back deck.

“AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!”

Something about this dye-dripping gun making a mess of my freshly cleaned kitchen triggers RAGE and EXTREME ANGER.  I can feel the heat rising to my face and my fists are clenched and shaking.  I yank the gun from CJ’s hand and toss it in the sink.

“I am going to throw this gun in the street and run over it with the car!” I shout.

CJ looks at me as only your child can look at you when you’ve crossed the line into downright mean and nasty.

I immediately feel bad.  I don’t want to be this mom… the one who yells and storms about and is downright unreasonable.

“JAY!!” I bellow, “YOU NEED TO SUPERVISE THIS TOY!!!”

Jay comes upstairs and looks from the red splotches on the floor to the red splotches on my face.  He says in his most soothing tone, “Don’t worry, the dye is WASHABLE.”

Only it isn’t really unless by “Washable” they mean DOESN’T COME OFF WITH WATER.

“Hmm, it doesn’t really come off,” Jay mutters as he scrubs at the stains.

Imagine that.

I am tempted to get the Color Stream Squirt gun from the sink and bash my dearest husband right across the head with it.

Instead, I drive to Target and buy myself a kiddie pool.

***
Like what you're reading? You can help me achieve my life-long dream of publishing a book by supporting this blog, which is a platform that can help me get published! (Click here to learn more about my book) There are lots of ways to show your support:

• Subscribe by RSS or Email
• Like Absolutely Bananas on Facebook
  
• Share this post on Facebook (click the link below "Related Posts")
• Tell a friend about Absolutely Bananas
• Leave a comment. They're like candy, but without the calories. :)

Thank you for your support! It's incredibly encouraging simply to have people reading what I write.
xo Jen

Related Posts:

• Magic (with a side of party igloo)
• Snowpocalypse in Seattle
• Marriage in real life

Share on Facebook