On Saturday morning, Ching, my husband of 8 years, yells with anxiety, "We are out of toilet paper!" (The level of anxiety is unmatched. What is it with men and bowel movements? It is not an event. Hell with him, it could be a three times a day event while I go once every 3 days--I know, I need bran.) I respond, calmly--"we have plenty, it is in the linen closet" And this is how the conversation goes:
CCW: "There is nothing here!"
JCW: (Calmly walking up the stairs) "It is there. I know it is right in front of you" I reach the linen closet and put my hand on the shelf that is right in front of Ching's face to grab the new 4 pack of Cottenelle.
CCW: "I guess I didn't see it; it's dark" (it was 11:00 in the morning) "and the packaging is hard to see. Usually you unwrap it."
JCW: I remain calm and I am trying to be as nice as possible--it's around the holidays. I resist the urge to ask if I should unwrap each square and pass them to him under the door. But 15 minutes later I can't resist myself. As he is about to take our children to music class, I have to ask him, "Do you see your children? They are right in front of you."
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