Monday, December 5, 2011

Domesticated Shrimp

"Honey, please, don't carry the kitchen trash through the house." I say, but Rob clutches the trash can liner and disappears into our bedroom. After a moment, he reappears, pads across the living room and out the front door. He leaves a trail of tiny wet spots.

Arms crossed over my chest, I'm waiting when he gets back. "Dammit Rob. Bags leak. People do not carry trash bags across carpet."

At his blank look, heat prickles the back of my neck. I stab a finger toward a series of small stains. There's a similar trail between the kitchen and the lanai.

"Don't worry," he says, "When Simon's gone, I'll buy you new carpet."

"The dog," I hiss, "Is not the problem."

Puzzled, he looks at me. "What do you mean?"

I press a finger against a blood vessel to keep it from bursting and point at the bait bucket in the middle of the den. "You're the problem."

"Oh that." His shoulders relax and he grins. "If I put the bait bucket on the tile, the bubbler is too loud. Besides, it's cooler in the house."

"They're Florida shrimp," I shout, "they don't care."

32 comments:

  1. He keeps his bait inside the house? Wow.

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  2. Repeat after me: Men are deep wells of topics for women who write.

    Better?

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  3. You're welcome. What's our cut?

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  4. Ladies, it true, I am easily entertained. Sigh.

    And Mike, just be happy that we let you live. Need proof, check out dawn's latest post at lighten up! lightenupweber.blogspot.com/

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  5. HI Steven, He only tried it once, that I know of.

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  6. We crack each other up. I adore Rob.

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  7. OMG I thought I was the only one with a fishing fool who keeps bait in the house. it's in their gene pool....no pun intended.

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  8. That's it. If you're ever in SW Florida, you have to look me up. The boys can have a play date.

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  9. Ok, so I just read Dawn's article. You should read it again; it seems to make it clear why we men let you women live!

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  10. You leave an easy trail to follow ...

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  11. You are a better woman than I am...that's all I'm going to say! :D

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  12. Aside from a permanent twitch under my left eye, I get lots of love, lots of hugs, and tons of encouragement.

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  13. You are too much! LOL Florida shrimp? hahahaa

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  14. I love how Rob's shoulders relax and he grins......

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  15. I find it rather amazing that we can land a man on the moon, but still can't figure out how to make a leak-proof garbage bag.

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  16. I don't have to worry about someone walking through the house with a leaking garbage bag...I'm the only one that takes the garbage out. :o(

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  17. It appears that your man and mine are from the same cave. Or maybe your knobbers have given you super-powers, too.
    Yes, by all means, let us keep the shrimp bait comfortable in their final hours.
    I saw you pimped me up there to that fella Mike (who obviously missed the point...) Thanks for the pimp! Pimpin ain't easy! Adding you to my blogroll this weekend, still lovin your stories.

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  18. I grew up to be a hall moniter and now I'm a pimp. Mom is so proud. :)
    Soooo, who else wants a little attention?

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  19. living near the Gulf, you could always pull up the carpet & just put rugs on nice, cool wooden floors. then, instead of stains, there'd just be dull spots in the varnish. and you could blame that on Captain Jean Lefette (can't spell no French names) or some Grand Army of the Republic bastard...even if the house is still only say twenty five years old. People don't know nothin' 'bout history, or pissed on hardwoods anyway.

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  20. My wife yells at me for tracking mud in the house when I bring in firewood. So, I'm thinking we're all pretty much the same.
    Knuckleheads.

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  21. Now that's an excellent idea. I need thick wood floors with lots of character, er, camouflage. Too bad the budget leans toward naked cement.

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  22. Completely oblivious. Don't you love that? I do like his reaction to you, though. A calm point-by-point of his thought process leading up to the deed. :-)

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  23. And this is why my trash can is in the mud room next to the door that leads to the garage where we keep our can. Wow, that was a mouthful.

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  24. OK OK, here's the permanent solution: Don't get mad, get glad.

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  25. Alas, J.A., our can is, oh, about eighteen inches from the garage door. The problem remains hubby. I'm so glad you stopped by.

    Oh you didn't, funny boy. Thanks for the laugh. :)

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  26. Stephanie, you nailed his character. He is calm, and oblivious. A full-on temper tantrum is an almost invisible twitch of his chin.

    I vent, which is, um, er, healthier.

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  27. Ha! Next he can play them some Jimmy Buffet to help them relax : )

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