You know those things that make you roll your eyes and sigh in exasperation? The ‘Huh? What on earth is that doing here? Come to think of it, what IS that?’ kind of things. They seem to be everywhere.
There was the fishing hook from on the windowsill yesterday. Fishing hooks don’t usually grow on windowsills, so I must assume that someone put it there. Since it was a bit old and rusty I assume that someone put it there a long time ago. And since it was in the lounge room of all places, I must conclude that said someone liked fishing. A lot. I guess it was the people who lived here before us. They would probably have got on well with my husband – he loves fishing. Why? Oh who knows – perhaps it is that thrill of dragging your wife along with you to a suitable spot, throwing a line in, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, until you eventually give up on catching any fish and go home! (You may have gathered that I do not like fishing. I do not have the necessary level of patience.) But anyway…fortunately the hook I found is quite unsuitable for further use and so when I showed my husband he merely laughed and did not suggest we go fishing. (Insert sigh of relief here.) But on to more strange things in my house.
Yesterday morning when I was washing those never-ending dishes, I pulled out a soapy steelo to scrub a pot. As I scrubbed, I noticed that it was making the water browner. So I took a closer look – and there was something that looked like dirt coming out the end. So I pulled it apart. (Perfectly normal reaction I assure you.) Well, when I had pulled the whole thing open I discovered a bunch of dirt on the inside! In a panic I texted a photo of this phenomenon to my mother. (Mothers know everything right?) She suggested rust, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t. She assured me it was entertaining. I was pretty sure it wasn’t. I asked the husband when he got home, but he knew nothing about it. So we are left with a mystery. And one more strange thing in my house. I got a new one out of the box and kept on washing – after all, dishes don’t do themselves.
Last week was worse. A glove appeared on the dining table. Well, you say, what is wrong with that? It was black. So? Well I had never seen one like it before. It was kind of like those latex medical gloves, except it wasn’t. I left it there in hopes it would vanish at some point. It didn’t. So the next evening when my husband got home, I was all prepared. I was going to handle this tactfully and nicely and at the same time uncover the mystery of the glove! So I said, ‘Um, darling? It’s not a problem but I was just wondering, what is that glove on the table?’ ‘Oh, that’s a sewer glove.’ See this is the problem with marrying a plumber. They are so calm, so completely complacent, as if it is completely natural to have a SEWER GLOVE ON THE DINING TABLE!!! Me on the other hand? I nearly had a heart attack. ‘It’s a WHAT??!!’ He went on to reassure me that it was ok, it was a clean sewer glove. Well that’s a relief. But still!
So far there have been no other strange appearances. Which is good, because I don’t think I could take much more! But I am getting there. And learning that sometimes those things you can’t understand, that make you roll your eyes and sigh in exasperation? Well, sometimes they aren’t ‘things’ at all. Sometimes they are called ‘husbands’.
God grant me patience.