The other day we're packing for some summer adventure and sweet hubby
And then there is the quiet while he presumably checks behind his clothes. A yelp from upstairs follows - which I think is an "I've cracked my head on the sloping ceiling" yelp "come quickly and save me from bleeding to death."
Turns out it was an "I still can't find it, save me from myself" whine.
So I cheerfully stomp up the stairs, part the clothes and say, "There you are darling, glad I could help". LMAO not even close. What I said was, did you really even look, Dumb Ass. (I think it came out sounding a bit loving and not too snarky!)
Here's the challenge - YOU spot the duffle bag. (hint its red and yellow, which is NOT cheating because sweet hubby knows this too)
After he parted the clothes ( I even held the camera up to his 6'2" height just in case, as he said "our perspectives are different")
Can you spot the duffel bag?!
Finally, several days later I made sweet hubby some cornmeal muffins. He ate a couple with dinner and then we cleaned up - I put the muffins away in the fridge. Just before bed his tummy starts grumbling and he says with the fridge door open, "where are the muffins you made". He was not very amused when I grabbed my camera before showing him the muffins (hmm THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID). So you tell me can you see the muffins?
Top shelf, Right hand side in a ziplock.
So I have to ask - is it genetic? something in the Y chromosome perhaps? and how do I save my son from the same terrible fate? or because he is male is he doomed to search and search and search but never find the things he's looking for unless his wife appears to save him?