...Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Ok, a little info and then we can get on with the story.

You know how everyone on the planet has a junk drawer in the kitchen? Well, we have a junk room. If you're not so familiar with my past posts, allow me to explain. Our house came with a den that we never use because it's freezing cold in the winter and boiling hot in the summer. From the day we moved in, that room became the room to just throw stuff into when we weren't quite sure what to do with it. Kind of like that that pen you can't seem to throw away because there's 1/16th of an ounce of ink in it. Except for us, it's a chair, a motorcycle frame, a broken fan, etc.

When we first moved in we made the smaller bedroom into an office in case I ever got accidentally pregnant so we could give the child the bigger bedroom (known as the "green room" because we painted the walls a real neat green). As time went on and I got better and better at remembering to take my pill, the office seemed to get smaller as each day passed by.

"I don't even know if I want to do this yet...But I've been thinking about moving the office into the green room...." I said to Shawn.

"You too?" he asked excitedly and very seriously.

And so it began last weekend when Shawn was working at his mom's and I spend four hours cleaning out the green room, which had inadvertantly became another junk room. Yesterday I semi- organized the junk in the den to make room for more junk coming in from the green room and the office.

After I was done I asked for Shawn's help with the larger pieces of furniture and what not.

This is where our story begins.

I think it really comes down to too much togetherness time and the fact that Shawn and I simply cannot work together without nearly coming to drawing up divorce papers. Sure, we argue and fight like most married couples but when we work together, it usually seems to come to blows. I am sure that each of us is usually thinking the same think at the exact same moment: "I wanna cold cock him/her in the nose so bad."

This all boils down to a simple equation generated by the marriage vows:

He hates everything I like.
I hate everything he likes.

Ergo, the crappy metal shelf we never use will not make the move because it's ugly and I'm the woman who knows what is quite pleasing to the eye so I win.

And everything has to be cleaned. Period.

"Don't move that yet, please!!" I belted as Shawn went to pick up the scanner which I had just unplugged. I only meant to retrieve a clean damp rag and by the time I get back, he is in the process of removing the scanner along with all the dirt and dust attatched to its bottom which as been there so long a small colony has begun to grow within it. By the end of the day, I wishing for one those condos under the scanner just to get away from my beloved.

Shawn doesn't understand my need, my craving for cleanliness and organization. I don't understand Shawn's need for getting it done as quickly as possible because there are worlds to conquer on Xbox.

Sure we screamed at each other and cursed each other out a few times but that's the joys of marriage. You get to do that on occasion, alieviate the stress of the day on each other and be best friends and have fringe benefits. It's a lose/lose/win sometimes/lose/win/win/compromise situation.

Early in the morning when I was pushing around boxes and junk in the den when Shawn mused aloud, "We should make this the junk room."

"This is the junk room, "I said. "It's always been the junk room."

"No, I mean instead of tossing everything into the old office room, we should bring it in here," Shawn said.

So later, when he asked if there was anything else he could do to help (just go away!) I said, "There's a pile of your tools that I found all over the room. You could put them away, please."

Later, I found the tools in a pile on the floor of the old office room. So much for progress.