Oh, no he di-in'

Cleaning up quickly before my friends come in from out of town. Early this morning, I eyed-up That Section of counter over by the pantry where clutter goes to...well, not die, but become invisible. We all have that section of counter, right? There were pictures the kids had drawn, destined for their memory boxes in Jon's basement closet. There were little sample paint cans for colors we're considering for the bedroom. There was J's little pink radio.

Several times this morning, as I flew by carrying cleaning products or running the vacuum, I would notice said things, and yell out to JBL, 'Can you help take this stuff downstairs?' He was doing other prep things, like putting the patio cushions out, but also non-prep things like checking email. Finally after 2 hours I brought the clutter up again, and he stopped me short.

"You have already asked about that."

"I know," I replied in a joking tone, "and I can't help but feel as though I am being ignored."

"Well, none of that stuff is mine!"

He says this to me with a straight face. He says it after I have cleaned three bathrooms (none of them mine) and vacuumed 5 rugs plus the upstairs bedrooms (only one of which is mine) and the hallway. He says it as I am carrying THREE laundry baskets (stacked on top of each other) with clean and folded clothes up the stairs.

I chose to laugh rather than punch him in the face. Good for me.