A fairly standard thing for Otto and me to say to one another is: “You love me. But you have no idea why.” He says it to me when he’s just come up with a scheme for another clunker of a car he simply must have, or I say it to him when I’ve just finished completely taking out on him any number of things that aren’t in any way his fault. It’s a little lovebird ritual of ours. Afterward, we stare deeply into each other’s eyes and argue about whose turn it is to go upstairs and yell at the kids.
(Ahhhh, romance. Don’t be jealous.)
But I actually know why Otto loves me. Otto loves a CHALLENGE. And he clearly hit the jackpot with me, no? He loves teaching for much the same reason. And one of the things he loves to tell his students is that they need to “fail faster” (I’m sure someone knows who he’s quoting, but I am too lazy to look it up) because failing is part of the learning process and gets them to the successes.
And THAT, my friends, is why Otto loves me. I’m failing fast and furious all over the damn place.
A few recent failtastic triumphs for your perusal:
Part of Otto’s contract is that he handles bugs. Lest you think I’m a pansy girly-girl, let me assure you that I most certainly AM a pansy girly-girl, but also remind you that here in Georgia the bugs do not screw around. Palmetto bugs—as one of my commenters was kind enough to point out, on a previous entry—are giant, mutant cockroaches with a pleasing southern name that they hope will make you forget that they are giant mutant cockroaches. They’re everywhere down here, and although everyone sane has a Bug Guy (love the bug guy!), occasionally one gets inside the house. And then I make Otto deal with it.
Except Otto wasn’t here over the weekend, and as Licorice and I lounged on the couch Saturday night watching some Terrible Television™, a palmetto bug only slightly smaller than my dog waddled across the family room floor.
“Licorice,” I whispered. “Go get it! Kill the bug!” She cocked her head at me, licked my nose, and went back to sleep. Fat lot of good SHE turned out to be.
I ended up chasing it around our easy chair for a while, and finally, I pulled out my vacuum cleaner and waited. The next time he poked an antenna out, he was sucked up the hose with an extremely satisfying THWACK.
But then I wasn’t sure what to do, because he could probably still get out of the vacuum bag, right? Like any intelligent person, I took the entire vacuum out into the garage and left it there. When Otto got home the next night, he changed the bag and the palmetto bug leapt out and tried to eat his face. Whoops.
I normally grocery shop on the weekends, but with Otto gone and being a complete slug sucking up all of my valuable time this past one, I didn’t manage it. So I vowed to get groceries yesterday during the day. And ran out of time and didn’t go. So suddenly it was 6:00 and I hadn’t made anything for dinner because we had no food. Or at least no food that wasn’t frozen solid. At that point I needed to make two separate trips out; first, to get some fast food for dinner, and later (after dinner), to actually get groceries.
First I went to fetch Mexican for dinner, because it’s quick and easy and I can easily find something yummy that’s gluten-free. I ordered for everyone else and then chose some tacos for myself. I forgot to specify hard (corn) shell. So of course I got home and discovered they were in a soft (flour) tortilla. Doh.
Later I went to the grocery store without a list and forgot half of what I was meant to buy, and furthermore got home and realized I’d only assembled about half the things I need to actually make and serve dinners this week. Double doh.
Luxury living fail!
Last Friday was blazing hot, and when Monkey got home from school and asked if he could swim I said SURE, GREAT IDEA! We have used the pool very little this year (thanks to Chickadee’s skin malady and a lot of travel), so I was pleased he was wanting to go in. Of course, the weather has been (relatively) cool lately, so the water in the pool was freezing. This meant that Monkey didn’t so much “swim” as he stood there in the shallow end, arms held out from his body, lips turning blue, asking me incessantly if I was coming in, too.
As for me, I pointed out that I would just LOVE to come in, but Licorice wants me to sit out here with her. Ahem. And then I opened up our poolside umbrella because it was 95 degrees outside and Licorice looked like she was about to have the doggie equivalent of a heat stroke.
We girls then sat in the shade and got splashed a couple of times, and eventually Monkey got out and we went inside.
Here is where I hang my head and tell you that I forgot to close the umbrella. I was helping Monkey dry off, I was wrangling the dog, I was oblivious. I screwed up; I admit that. And the umbrella has been known to fall over in strong winds even when left closed, so I really should’ve been more careful.
“Did you leave the umbrella open?” Otto asked me, yesterday. It should be noted that we’d had some pretty gusty winds that afternoon.
“Oh no!” I said. “Did it fall over?”
“You could say that,” said Otto. Turns out that it, um, didn’t just fall over. It fell in the pool. The entire 9′ umbrella AND base. Into the deep end.
(Don’t worry, Otto fished it out. I have no idea how, but I’m very impressed.)
I’m not saying it’s IMPOSSIBLE that someone could fail more than me, providing her spouse ample opportunity to save the day… I’m just saying it’s extremely unlikely. I’m totally mastering this failing thing. Lucky, lucky Otto!