Nuts

My husband thinks I'm insane. I'm about to leave on a fabulous Florida vacation, and I'm focused not on the beaches and pools and hunting in foreign parts but on the long, loooonnnngggg list of things I need to do before I leave. Men are seriously not women.

I don't understand why he sees clutter if it's my stuff but not if it's his (dirt, he never sees, not really). I don't understand why he will fight like hell to hold onto a scrap of wood or length of cable but tosses his clothes on the floor in the path of feet, cats, and other damaging things. I don't understand how he calls it "his lawn" when he doesn't know weed from fescue. And I really don't understand how he can rail on my for not putting his tools back in exactly the right pile. Men are so odd.

Ah well. He doesn't get me, either, and (frankly) I'm kind of happy about that. I'm a mystery. That's a guy thing, too (God bless 'em), and I'm happy about that because to us they're not a bit mysterious - they're just irritating. It would truly stink if they realized the same about us.