Secret Agent
I am a hoarder of confidential information.
You may think I don’t have many secrets – after all, I have shared my colonoscopy with you.
And you’ve read about my bad boyfriends, my bad haircuts, my bad habits, my bad career choices.
And you’ve met every member of my family, past and present – who are not bad in any way at all.
Yes, I’m having a very nice ordinary life and it appears I have shared every moment and every trivial thought with a multitude of people I don’t even know.
So not so.
I’m secretive.
I’m keeping important secrets from my husband.
I’ve already shared one instance where I kept essential info from my husband – (since of course I keep nothing from you guys; only from hubby). It was the time he was a little upset because I didn’t tell him the air conditioning wasn’t working. When I speculated that the recent power outage had screwed up the air-conditioning, he was caught by surprise.
“Why didn’t you tell me that the air-conditioning was out?”
If you missed that episode, you may be thinking he was out of town or something. But no, he was sitting right next to me in the extremely warm house.
My bad.
But time passes.
All was forgiven.
But this week, my secretive nature led me to the unforgivable. I repeatedly deprived him of critical information.
First, I hid the lint roller. This is a vital implement in my house, since we have four cats.
“I looked everywhere,” he said. “And I ended up having to use half a roll of scotch tape.”
So I showed him where the lint roller was, which happened to be on the counter by the phone where it always is.
“Why did you put it in the corner?” he asked.
I don’t know. I guess I am just sneaky.
Second, I kept him unaware of crucial data that had a horrible impact on his plans. By that I mean: The Weather Report.
He couldn’t mow the lawn. “Why didn’t you tell me it was supposed to rain?”
Because he didn’t have the security clearance for that classified information, that’s why.
And worst of all, he had no access to life-saving medicine.
As we were getting ready for bed last night, Hubby said, “You know, I had something in my eye today, and there were no eyedrops anywhere.”
I opened the medicine cabinet that I admit is difficult to access, since it is slightly to the left of his sink. On the third shelf – which I again admit is slightly higher than eye level – were the eyedrops, which I keep in its original box, since the bottle is small and the label is tiny.
“Why do you have the box facing sideways and not forwards?” he asked. “How am I supposed to find it?”
Which is a really good question.
I think I will have to apply for early retirement.
I have to be home to turn the little box around for him.
**
- Posted in: Aging ♦ Home ♦ Humor ♦ Marriage
- Tagged: Aging, Humor, Lost things, Marriage, middle-aged
notquiteold 
Are you sure you haven’t met my husband? He can be looking right at something and can’t see it. 🙂
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Yes! Mine too!
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That’s because wives hide everything.
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And don’t get me started on refrigerator blindness…
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Even if you say “Second shelf on the right, next to the cheese” – nope, they can’t find it.
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You know, I feel like I might be your husband. Apart from, um, the obvious distinguishers . . .
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Can you find the salt?
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I think there is a gene is inherently dominate in all male species and children, except females grow out of it. When i was a very young wife, i thought it was in my vows – I will love, honor and know where your keys are. Thanks for the laugh!
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I love it when he says, “Where did you hide my keys?”
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I think it’s a common gene in men or at least in husbands. Unfortunately, most of the time they pass it on to their children…and, don’t get me started on the inability to move anything to find something!!!
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My mother’s favorite saying was, “Are you waiting for [whatever] to jump out and yell,’Here I am?'”
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I haven’t had a husband for thirty years, but I remember that!
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Yeah, those memories stick.
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You just described probably 97.5 of the male population!!
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Oh, more than that!
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Instead of ‘shop’ classes for boys in grades 7 and 8, they should teach ‘how to see and/or find things that are right in front of you’ classes. They are all the same (they just don’t ‘see’ it).
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Can they have a class on “seeing” dirty dishes too?
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… and laundry that needs to be put in the basket (or taken out and put away) and stuff on the stairs that needs to go up (or down) and garbage that needs to be taken out and empty toilet paper rolls that need to be replaced and coats that need to be hung up and … (the list is endless, isn’t it?!?!?!?)
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You nailed it again! I believe all women keep these secrets from their husbands. We are subversive by nature. I am always amazed at what they don’t see.
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I throw away all the bills too.
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I know, I know, I know — this is so funny – it is like you are at my house
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I’ve said it before: There are many different types of women, but men only come in one model.
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ha ha ha
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Yes! Great post. I feel your confidentiality…
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I not only keep the weather a secret – but important dates likes birthdays and anniversaries. And elections. And holidays.
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Really on target here – no question.
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OMG. I laughed out loud, then got angry. I go through this same s**t at my house. Seriously, how do they make it through life???
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I think it’s why marriage works. Women keep track of everything. Men kill bugs.
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Too funny, but I believe this.
In another life, a long time ago, my husband called me at work to ask what was in the green container in the fridge. See what I mean?
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Ha! I can totally hear that conversation. In my husband’s voice, of course.
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Hilarious Nancy! With a husband and two sons I have had this kind of experience too many times to count. On the upside–whenever I wanted to hide anything from them it was SO EASY. Thanks for the giggle!
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You’ve got a point!
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Like you, I have been keeping a secret. I refuse to divulge the location of the dishwasher, which would explain why my husband never puts his dirty dishes inside it.
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It appears my husband has never seen where I’ve hidden the vacuum cleaner either.
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Here’s the thing that I absolutely love about blogging. The thing is: my husband has nothing to do with it. Nothing. He (along with my children) never read what I write (which made it really, REALLY pathetically awkward the other night when I was trying to casually show them that being one of only 50-some recommended humor blogs out of a possible 500,000+ was kind of a nice compliment. They just looked politely blank.)
That means I can say, with total honesty and full confidence of never being caught….OMG, my husband does this exact same thing! I think he thinks, for realz, that I hide things to mess with his brain. I want to say “what kind of a mean, petty jerk do you think I am?” But I bite my tongue.
Now excuse me, I have to dash. I’ve got a load of his white underwear soaking and it’s about time to toss my fuscia Valentines Day socks into the load.
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I am thinking about actually hiding the lint roller.
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I hate to admit this, but apparently I have a load of male genes hiding in me somewhere … I am the only person I know who can be standing at the stove, stirring soup and reading a book … uhm, yes, reading a book while cooking … put the book down and not be able to find it five seconds later. It takes at least five seconds to put it down, do something else and then not be able to find it. Also, there’s the “dear, go get the …. whatever it is …” and then the spousal unit gets totally annoyed when I can’t locate whatever it is that’s right in front of nose … … LOL. (and it is, so frequently, right there. Old adage: snake, bit, that’s me …
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Yikes-I was just about to take my husband to the doctor. Now I realize that he has I’m-too-lazy-to-look-syndrome.
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It is in the testosterone, I fear. You don’t have a prayer.
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We have been giving the dog a new medicine for over a month. It goes on her dinner every night. Last night I got a text while I was at a meeting. “Where is the dog’s medicine?” I texted back “To the left of the sink.” I refrained from adding, “Where it has been the whole time.”
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My husband once asked me where I kept the towels….
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I believe this happens to all men at puberty. It is testosterone poisoning. Mine cannot find the sink or the dishwasher. But he irons so I will keep him.
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Irons? Wow! Mine doesn’t know how to turn the iron on. But on the other hand, I like to iron – and he can FIX THE CAR!
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Perfect, as always! I would buy a collection of humor essays written by you in a heartbeat!
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How I would love to do that! I can see a book of your illustrated stories too… where can we find an agent?
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They would be so lost without us.
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Even more lost than they are with us!
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Why is it that men cannot find anything?
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This is definitely a guy thing.
He-Who once found something he was looking for and promptly announced from hence forth he should be known as “The Finder”. It was a short lived name change.
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I think I might be the only person commenting who has a husband who does not do this. In fact, I’m pretty sure my husband is the secret agent in our house…
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hubby says he thinks women find stuff with their uterus and that’s why men can’t find anything.
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My husband and son are only able to find the snacks, which I DO hide. Amazing. On another note, our gardener mows over dog pooh. This is AFTER I instruct my son to make sure that there is none in the yard. My son assures me that the yard is pooh-free, and then the gardener mows it, after walking in it. Not that it’s there, at least in the mind of men.
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Laughed until I cried reading your blog and all the comments! Now every one of us women has the title of Secret Agent thanks to you! When my husband starts asking, “where is the …” everyone in the house just stops, counts to ten and usually he finds it!! I know HE is really advanced after 21 years of living with me, right?!
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Wow, this made me laugh! Love it. Can totally relate!
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I guess you keep those top secrets too!
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