Where's My Other Shoe?

WHERE’S MY OTHER SHOE?

My husband, Matt, said that I’m a pack rat. I couldn’t hear him, though, as he was standing behind a stack of unfinished projects. But if we ever get attacked by killer bees, he’ll be really glad that I saved all the netting that was going to be a bed canopy but turned into really nice padding for my unfinished ceramic coyote. I don’t really like the term, “pack rat”, though. I prefer to be called a collector of rarities.

I began to think that he may have a remote chance of being right one day. I was looking in my closet for a pair of pink sequined shoes that can only be worn with one specific outfit. I found the first one in record time, but I just couldn’t find its’ mate. I did, however, find my black satin special occasion purse, which still contained the dance program. What a nice walk down memory lane.

I also found a large bag of fabric paints. Technically, they can no longer be called paint, as they had dried up & were hard as a rock. With their pointed nozzle, they would make a really good projectile object. A bag of yarn, a few takeout menus & a stocking stuffer I forgot to give my son later, I conceded defeat. The pink shoe’s mate was not to be found. You’d think that the obvious thing to do would be to throw it away. But, what if I find the matching shoe? It really was a one of a kind. So, back it went into the closet. I set it free in hopes it would begin a quest for its partner.

Please don’t get the idea that my house is filled with boxes. Matt is too much of a neat freak for that. Or, uh, as he likes to call himself, a minimalist. All my “collections” are stashed away where no one can see; unless you open my bedroom closet. Do that, & all bets are off.

Occasionally, Matt would go through my stashes & throw things away. He didn’t think I knew (until now). One thing has stopped his major, secret cleansing rituals, though. I started saying, “Oh, well, if I can’t find it, I’ll just go out & buy another. You’d be surprised how quickly he can find what I was looking for.

Matt & I have been married almost 20 years now. Proof that a collector of rarities & a minimalist can live quite happily together. To celebrate, we’re going to go to dinner tonight. I’ve figured out what I want to wear. Now, where’s my other shoe?

Puzzled

My husband, Matt, is a puzzle fiend. Crossword, Sudoku, Jumbled Words, you name it, he loves them. I, on the other hand, hate them. Matt calls it a left brain/right brain issue. I call it a don’t care/too frustrating issue.

I do ok with jumbled word puzzles, but once I get frustrated, I’m done. Matt tried to explain what Sudoku is, & how it’s played. All I had to hear was that it was math related. After that, I had zero interest. Numbers make my brain hurt.

He recently emailed an intelligence test having to do with colors. The average person is supposed to get it right within 5 tries; he got it in 3. I, however, now have concrete evidence to point to that I actually have no brain. I got 14% on my first try, & 0% on two others. I actually got worse!

At first, there was no way I was going to divulge this little tidbit of knowledge. I figured I could just walk away & forget about it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t.

All I could think about was why didn’t I get this test? I’m not a complete idiot (as far as you know), & this test didn’t seem that hard. I’d go back & re-take it. Still, my score was “you’re so dumb, how can you even manage the controls?” Look, I’ve been told I’m not the brightest bulb by some, but a dumb computer is telling me I’m stupid? It was war.

I’d keep taking the test, failing, taking, failing. The more I tried, the worse I felt. Even in the shower, I was going over all the instructions, trying to figure out what I was missing. Then, I’d go back with renewed fervor, only to get laughed at by my computer – again.

That’s when I formed my conspiracy theory. Maybe it was a joke that Matt thought would be funny. And, what if he really DIDN’T get it in 3 tries? What if he was trying to tell me he thought I’m an idiot? Was he doing this on purpose to make me crazy?

Well, by the time he got home, I’d worked up a good ol’ case of mad. I hollered at him & told him exactly what was on my pea sized mind! He looked at me as though I’d lost it, & then, & then, had the nerve to suggest that maybe I wasn’t reading the instructions. That’s when I told Mr. Man what he could do with his puzzle.

After trying, hard, to contain himself, he showed me what I failed to figure out. Then, he bust out laughing. I couldn’t believe how easy the mistake I’d made was, or how silly I felt yelling at him. Then, I promptly sat down & re-took the puzzle/test, & got 100%.

I guess the moral of the story is, don’t take out your lack of problem solving on those you love. Either that, or, don’t take stupid puzzle/tests. And, sadly, in my case, the real moral is that I’m an idiot, & shouldn’t be allowed near computers. ‘Nuff said.