Well, as usual, a great bunch of well rounded and helpful opinions!
I think that next time, many of you are right…I would ordinarily wait on a routine issue such as this. But, there had been a strange, not wholly unpleasant nor pleasant smell emanating from what iI thought could be the ducts and could not stand it anymore. He did not find anything unusual but In the end, he pulled a lot of crap from my house and I feel I’m able to sleep easier.
But it gets worse…and after that, more worse! … and not due to the guests whatsoever. They are extremely chill people and were going to be out anyway. So, worry for nothing…
But after knocking and entering the suite and finding nobody home, I began changing linens and replacing items needed…cheerful in my general Snow White with small birds manner at peace with the world. The bathroom door was closed. I open it…
… and find that that the entire basin and some of the surrounding countertop area is a discoloured white… At first, I was annoyed that they were so dirty and disrespectful as to not even rinse out the sink after they had perhaps bathed a baby rhino covered in chalk dust. My annoyance turned to terror when I find that all of that discolored area is in fact a part of the fixture and feels as if someone had poured boiling acid in it for a couple of hours, like if you scraped all of the enamel of your teeth and then did the boiling acid. Etched, rough, horribly discoloured. I was FUMING. I took several pictures, called husband,
began to review my several options, was milling over the several examples I have read here of how to approach the situation, how to approach the guests…my mind is going bananas. I grabbed the dog and went out for a think on it. Then Husband calls back…
And this is the worser, people. He sounds astoundingly freaking nonchalant about it. This man had NO CHALANTS whatsoever and I wanted to smack him through the phone. I know he’s busy at work so I repeat myself.
He pauses and says… “it was like that! It’s ok. It wasnt them, honey! Haha. It’s all good”.
Whatthehellareyoueventalkingaboutrightnow?
“Of course, you delirious, obviously food poisoned or overworked impostor muttonhead stupid face, this sink was never ever like this prior to a guest checking in and it is all GOOD and I just happened upon it unawares. Are you smoking pot at work?”
To the man’s credit and the only reason he still breathes while I live for one more minute is because I had been in hospital for 3 weeks having a cancerous tumor removed. FOR THIS BRIEF MOMENT OF TIME IN THE ENTIRE WORLD WHICH WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN, I LEFT ALL THINGS AIR UP TO HIM.
He was the one to prep the suite last…
And for the first time ever, I didn’t check it prior or even enter it.
But, you are all wondering…"why isn’t he dead yet, though? Why not? Why did you not end his world? I am looking for your say so here. Majority wins. But in the meantime, he cheerfully and oh so casually (still no Freaking chalants with this one! And he is not registering that he should even maybe gather his CHALANTs damn quick and feed them to my mounting hysteria demon or the entire inner she dragon force will gobble him so slowly, after giving my own Chalants the day off, that his own Mother would sense his PAIN in another country but genetically sharing the same aggravating cheerful nonchalance would be unwilling to save him.
Then it registers…and he attempts…"oh no, honey! It’s ok! Its FUNCTIONAL! I didnt have time to fix my mistake before they arrived. So, I will attack it when they leave. My mind searches for the compassion I reserve only for people whose whim I happen to be temporarily subject to, due to the previously mentioned cancer and his feelings and loving care.
…Snow White peeks out, heart rate slows, grip on phone and incredulous face resets… “oh ok! So, at least they were understanding! Thankful for that! How great! Ahhhhhh, ok. Whew…”
“Oh no, I didn’t mention it to them, babe. I didnt really think I needed to. I told you, honey! Don’t worry! Its FUNCTIONAL! People dont care about aesthetics for stuff like that!”…
Me in my still human form: " oh so, they just checked in and thought that this was just the normal state for our bathroom. Oh, ok (giggle)…ahhhh yeah. Now, I get it".
Molten hot lava races out of my eyes, enters my phone and stabs his body with the pain of one trillion slow motion wasp stings but on fire…like one billion forest fires but lava with bees and horrible half centipedes and Eagles with talons that lift him by his toes. That is all that is left of him. Take your stupid nonchalant toes! Fly as terrifyingly evil as you can, Eagle! Godspeed!
As happens with my horseshoe in every possible orifice husband, he once again lands on his feet as in every possible instance. A potentially tragic and unsettling… BAD thing turns into me hearing him laugh heartily along with the injured party, making plans for the following week for the injured to fix his truck for free or a 1000 geishas to walk on his back for the rest of his life as a gift from the King of some country he was then made the new King of…
Because once again, the situation is made clear to them… And as I await their angry displeasure and demands for a refund and a scolding for being so neglectful a host, I HEAR the laughter. Everything is dead quiet for a moment. And I think "haha! Doesn’t work every time!!! Mwahaha! At last, you and your Mother will know the wrath of a thousand suns (yes, his mother too, ok!). And then he bounds in, just beaming…expecting more laughter from me and a playful punch on the arm and “way to go, Champ!” . And then I suppose ice cream, wrestling and sex on a ferris wheel I guess!
Whatever normal is in your people’s worlds!
It’s all smoothed over! I was of course exaggerating the importance of even at the very least bothering to mention it to me! Hahaha! I am so uptight! Yes, that is it! (Yes, the cancer thing…whatever, that is the last card he gets! The rest are all Aces in a game called Aces in his pocket anyway! Does not matter. That eagle guaranteed is allowing him to teach his eaglets how to fly and they are laughing and laughing…That is what, people.
In case you haven’t had enough of this post, the epilogue…
Fast forward to this morning. I text him from across the country in my mind hoping his hand gets poison ivy or tingles irritatingly at least when he checks it. (We are on text terms possibly forever. And the next forever.)
He CHEERFULLY and Proudly announces that he is installing my new laundry sink and I appear in my laundry room to find all machines disconnected. The reason I texted was because the guests requested to do laundry…
But what am I hearing at this exact moment, people? What? Screams and final untalented bouts of exasperation?
NO. It’s not that at all. You know what it is. Laughter …and we are likely inheriting a firstborn child.
They can wait for however long! No problem! Lunch is on them! They will go pick it up!
As I end this post, I hear yet another familiar sound, one normally reserved for times when there are generally only good friends and family around or a bar full of strangers after several drinks.
At night.
Not in your house usually. but in ours.
Well, on his side of the house.
Karaoke! Yes! Isn’t that what you were expecting? Perfectly regular and normal, well received reaction in this situation for all of you, I imagine! For everyone in the world. TOTALLY! YEAH…YEAH.
But he is spared for exactly 2 more minutes and 58 seconds as he is of course singing the only song in the entire world that is ours alone and makes me weep like a baby every. goddamn. time.
I hate this man. But he is hard to beat…or encourage eagles to dismember.