Before I get rolling there are two things you need to know:
1. To date MG has lost TWO sets of car keys. Both sets belonged to me. I am still using the valet parking key as we haven't gotten around to getting me a key with the clicker thingy on it.
2. I've never been very good at remembering historical facts, or geographical facts, or any kind of facts really. If it weren't for "The Fifty Nifty United States" song - I would have been lost in fifth grade.
Why does this matter?
Let me start at the beginning.
MG and I firmly believe in sharing household responsibilities. We take turns doing dishes, laundry, bathing Picklebug, etc. But there are a few things that are permanently assigned. For example, I take care of dusting, vacuuming, decorating, and cleaning the bathrooms. These are things that I do my best to take care of on a regular basis. MG is responsible for scooping the kitteh litter, taking out the trash and getting the recycling to it's appropriate location. This breakdown works pretty well for us.
Except that the town only picks up recycling twice a month. And we can NEVER remember which two days they stop by to get it. So our patio has about three months of recycling piled up in the corner.
I think you can guess where I'm heading.
This morning started off well. Pickle Bug was unusually easy to occupy while we got ready for work, there was plenty of clean laundry from which to choose a work outfit and I even had enough time to eat some Raisin Bran.
But as we departed our condo I noticed the 15+ blue bags of recycling near the front door. I had a strong urge to grind my teeth but, in an effort to not spoil the morning commute, I chose not to say anything.
Until I noticed three weeks' collection of newspapers in backseat of the car.
So I had to say something to MG.
Just like a bag of Ruffles, I can't stop nagging once I get going. So after I mentioned the 5 tons of recycling on our porch, and the decade's worth of newspaper in our backseat, I also had to point out that he needed his haircut.
And finally, riding high on a wave of annoyance, I bring up my missing keys (and MG knows I'm mad when I bring up the missing keys).
MG then promises (cross his heart, hope to die, stick a needle in his eye) that today he will:
a) figure out what day the recycling is picked up so he can set our collection by the curb
b) take the newspaper to Walmart this evening
c) make an appointment for a haircut
But where are my keys? The Atlantic Ocean? Ugh.
Knowing that I have short attention span and that I love a good challenge prompts MG to change the subject by asking me if I can name all of the worlds oceans.
The following conversation then took place:
Jen: How many oceans are there? Seven?
MG: (rolling eyes) Yes. Seven. Can you name them?
Jen: Okay, well there is the Atlantic and the Pacific.
MG: Good. What else?
Jen: Um... the Indian Ocean?
MG: Yep! What else? I'll give you a hint - "The North Pole"
Jen: (scratching head... thinking...) The Penguin Ocean?
MG: No honey. Try again.
Jen: The Arctic Ocean?
MG: Right again! Just one more...
Jen: I know! I know! The BLUE Ocean!! But what about the other two...??