Apparently, I’m high maintenance.  I never really thought of myself as high maintenance, but then I started realizing that the signs are all there.  If you read my blog about my strange eating habits (There’s Always a Food Critic in the Donner Party), then you’ve already a few examples.  Clearly, I’m OCD to the bone.  I like to think it’s not a disorder, rather just an order.  I like things a certain way.  D-Train and I used to always make fun of Frameo when we all lived together in Denver.  We would put a candy wrapper on the mantle and sit down and count to see how long it would take him to notice it.  I say count, because he’s that obsessive – usually it was one to two minutes.  His record was about 20 seconds.  I mention this because I’ve noticed I’m that way.  I seem to be spending my day organizing everything and then organizing everything again.  I can’t ever seem to get the sink clean enough.

The Big Guy and Mama J constantly make fun of my Dish Washing Methodology^tm.  Even Auntie Willie^® (New nickname for The Wife’s Aunt!  Thanks NAN! yay) chimes in.  You’d think she’d be all so happy to have me scrubbing her dishes on Thanksgiving night, but instead, she’s standing there ribbing me because in Cabo, I asked her to take my white linen shirt off so it wouldn’t get stained.  I guess that was an odd request for Auntie Willie^®, who by the way made the best Dutch Apple Pie I’ve had. The Big Guy will wait until I have the clean sink water at the perfect temperature and then stick a dirty dish in the water, soiling it completely.  He once said that if I continued to clean his dishes, he’d have to buy new one’s because I would have cleaned them to the bone.  I disagree – you can’t clean dishes that much.  Other times, he’ll walk over in the middle of cleaning and stick a dish with food on it in the dish washer. Let me be clear, dishwashers are mis-named.  They should be called “Dish Sanitizers” because that’s what they do.  They don’t get the food off – I don’t care what anyone says.  The wife just rolls her eyes at the discussion.

Note: If you’re looking for a new Dish Sanitizer, go with Hobart.  It’s not pretty, but it’s the way a Dish Sanitizer should be.

Hobart Under Counter Dish "Sanitizer"

Lately, I’m feeling a little bad for The Wife.  She’s been getting in trouble for a lot of things around the house.  Here’s a few examples of my wrath:

1. She’ll often stick things like wine bottle toppers, spoons and forks, and other small items in the sink where the disposal lives.  After an evening of use, these items will almost always find a home in the disposal.  After a heavy night of entertaining, I’ll conclude my Dish Washing Methodology^tm by turning on the disposal, only do listen to sounds like she put a body in down the sink.  I’ll just shoot her a glare and go the Mud Room for some quiet time.
2. Donnie Boom Boom was in town last week and he asked for the strawberry jam.  When he opened it, there was peanut butter mixed in with it because when The Wife makes a PB&J sandwich, she uses the same knife for the peanut butter and the jam.  Mud Room Cool Off Time.
3. I have this new obsession with drying out the sink when I’m done doing the dishes.  I’ll often spend a lot of time drying it, then walk into another room, only to hear the sink running in the kitchen.  I’ll walk back in and there she is running the sink to wash her hands.  I think to myself, “Isn’t there a bathroom for that?”  Again, Mud Room Cool Off Time.
4. A couple of weeks ago, The Wife’s advertising agency needed to burrow some of my swimming trunks for a video shoot.  Now, when I heard this, I thought “Nice. They’re going to display them and film them with some words over them and some other items for the commercial”.  I pulled my best three pair of board shorts and tied the strings really nicely for display.  The next day, The Wife sent me an email picture from the video shoot. I thought it was a pretty cool picture.  That is, until I noticed A good pair of green Hurley Boardshorts were being sported by some young chap riding a wave.  I was Frerking (big ups to The Greatest Vet of All Time, Dr. Thad Frerking) furious.  Once more, Mud Room Cool Off Time.

This is just a glimpse – it’s getting worse too.  The latest occurrence happened last night.  The last post, I mentioned I took a business trip to Las Vegas.  While I was there, I stayed with my good pal, Mike of Mike and Jersey Jen (from Michigan).  On Mike’s coffee table was a 944 Magazine and there, on the cover was the most beautiful angelic figure I’d seen since our wedding night.  That good looking woman turned out to be none other than My Girl, Giada De Laurentiis.  As many of you know, I have a Kitchen Crush on her.  While The Big Guy and Mama J were in town last week, I wanted to show the magazine article to The Big Guy, as I knew he too was a fan.  I asked The Wife where the 944 Magazine was and she replied that she had taken it to work to show one of the partners.  Reaching boiling point…

…And to the Mud Room, I do retire…

944 Magazine Cover - Giada de Laurentiis

But it gets even worse.  Last night, as The Wife had returned from work, she thought I would be happy to have my Lovely back.  Don’t get me wrong, I was super excited.  But then, I noticed that the top corner of the cover of the magazine had a crease on it.  Holding back a nuclear fallout explosion, I calmly asked about it and she mentioned the partner had accidentally bent it when he was transporting it.  I’m not sure why it wasn’t taken out on a flatbed dolly.  At any rate, I just came out of the Mud Room.

Speaking of peanut butter and My Girl, Giada De Laurentiis, she and my other favorite freakshow author, Jen Lancaster, have some new competition.  While I was in Las Vegas, Mike of Mike and Jersey Jen (from Michigan) introduced me to his cousin, Eric and Eric’s wife, Julie.  Might I say, they were the most pleasant company.  Julie just happens to have a blog about cooking & baking.  Everything looks delectable!  Check it out at http://www.peanutbutterandjulie.com!

Many of you have sent me links to articles similar to this one regarding the smuggling of dishwasher detergent into Spokane from out of state/city:

• AirAmerica: Housewives Smuggling Illegal Soap into Spokane

First, I’d like to thank AirAmerica for including my sort – the SAHDiNK – by referring to the househusbands along with the housewives in this article.  I must tell you how frustrating it is to read article after article about stay at home types and only see the word “wife” in conjunction with the word “house”.  I find it oh so offensive and commend AirAmerica for standing up for The HouseHusband.  Now, yes, this soap smuggling seems to be a big controversy.  To the point that I overheard The Early Show discussing the issue on national television while working in my home-office.  Yes, Mike & Jersey Jen (from Michigan) – I overheard the TV in the family room while I was working in the office – I wasn’t watching.  The issue seems to be that the Spokane River has become an endangered river because of industrial dumping.  I don’t get it.  I was at the Spokane Falls last week and it looks rather clean to me.  I didn’t see garbage floating or oil seeping from the water.  It looked pretty fresh to me – I would swim in it if it weren’t traveling at 1,000 miles an hour – though it might be fun to try to tube it at least once. I’m rambling

For those of you who have inquired about this issue, I’m here to set the record straight.  We are NOT smuggling  illegal dishwasher detergents into Spokane.  Let me repeat my self: We are absolutely, unequivocally NOT smuggling in Electrosol Finish^® All in 1 PowerBall^® Tabs – Fresh Scent dishwasher detergent, even though it is far superior to the Palmolive Eco-Friendly brand we bought that doesn’t Frerking (big ups to The Greatest Vet of All Time, Dr. Thad Frerking) work worth a lick.

Now that that’s settled, I thought I’d tell you an interesting find I had two days ago.  First, a little back story.  The Wife and I decided last year to join the couple who introduced us on a little trip.  I’m sure all of you parents and dog owners can relate to this – what do you do with your kid(s)?  In the case of the couple joining us, they were able to have their parents take their daughter for the time we’re away.  But what do you do with an 11 month old vizsla puppy?  The Wife’s aunt & uncle graciously offered, but it seems like every time Hogan visits their home, he’s destroying something.  You’ll probably remember the Wednesday Night Soup incident of 2008 where The gUrt was officially banned from their home by me in an effort to skirt the imminent ban by The Wife’s aunt and uncle.  There’s always the Kennel, but the last time he came back from there, he didn’t have a voice and slept for 3 days straight, so we weren’t too keen on that idea either.  I know Babs would watch him, but there’s the issue of getting him to Denver.  OOOh – wouldn’t it be great to send him to Donnie Boom Boom and Nanc?  We’d never be invited back.  What to do, what to do…

Well, the best option was to take The Big Guy and Mama J up on their offer to watch him for the week.  We’ve done the same for them and watched their dogs, so how hard can it be, right?  I mean  what’s the worst he’s done whilst visiting The Big Guy and Mama J?  HHHmmm – well let’s start with the latest incident: the new Rattan Pet Residence.  About a month ago, we were visiting Walla Walla and there on the doorstep were two brand new Rattan Pet Residences for the Big Guy and me to assemble.  While we were assembling it, I asked The Big Guy if he thought the dogs would chew through the wicker side panels.  His reply was a surprisingly stern “No, they won’t,” as if he had had a sit down with the dogs and discussed the consequences of chewing on the wicker hotel.  Well, apparently he didn’t have that conversation with The gUrt because last weekend, The gUrt did some remodeling to the hotel he was visiting and added an ocean view window.  Just so you know, you can purchase replacement side panels directly from Mr Herzhers…though it helps to know what size the Rattan Pet Residence was before you make the call.

Remodeling the Rattan Pet Residence wasn’t the only incident.  They’ve had to replace several sleeping pads because of incessant chewing.  Oh, and then there was the Nativity Scene incident during Christmas of 2008 where Hogan & Vinnie ran into the front entry full blast and broke an angel, I think a shepherd, and gave baby Jesus a good wack to the skull on the glass table.  Then, there was the reverse potty training we did with The gUrt where he apparently un-learned his bathroom skills and peed everywhere in their house.  Lets just say I’m worried that we may not be invited back to Walla Walla when we return from our trip.

There was an interesting outcome to this story.  In order for everything to work out, we decided it was best to leave Hogan in Walla Walla while we were visiting the weekend before we left.  Of course, we decided that after we had already left Walla Walla, had visited GPat and GrandpaNorm in Lewiston, Idaho and then were on our way back to Spokane.  We agreed that The Wife’s aunt would pick up The gUrt one morning during the week and take him back to Lewiston, where she was to see Mama J and visit GPat and GrandpaNorm.  Then Mama J would take him back with Vinnie to Walla Walla until we returned from our trip.

That morning, I was working in my office and it was about time for The Wife’s aunt to arrive.  I decided I would go spend some time with The gUrt as I knew I would miss him.  It’s funny, working from home, he and I are always together.  We’re together to the point that a lot of the time, if I’m running an errand, I’ll take him with me.  He really is my best friend.  I knew it was going to be hard being away from him for so long, and The Wife was feeling the same.  Hogan must have sensed it because when I went looking for him, I couldn’t find him anywhere.  It was like he totally vanished.  As I passed by the bedroom, I noticed that the bed was in major disarray.  Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about this because I usually make the bed as I hear the garage door lifting – signaling that The Wife is home and I’d better quickly pick up the house and shower before she finds out that The gUrt & I have been partying all day.  But because we were expecting company that day, I had made the bed earlier that morning.  Walking by and finding the bed totally destroyed, I figured out what was going on.  I walked in and quickly realized – The gUrt wasn’t sleeping, he was hiding.  He had totally burrowed his way under the pillows and two comforters in hope that whatever was going on would pass him by.

I’m absolutely amazed by animals and their natural intuition – their ability to read us.

The gUrt's Remodeling Project