What happens when you get married…

So, when Mike and I got married, we’d been dating for a very long time. This translates to mean that we know each other really well by the time we walked the aisle. And I mean really well. I can tell you his favorite foods (sandwiches), how he’d react to things I’d say (you’re not fine) and how he likes to spend his time on the weekends (“marinating” on the couch, flipping channels between Shawshank and Fight Club). He knows exactly what I am going to say, before I get out more than one word (that word is usually, “ba-abe”). He knows what makes me madder than hell (definitely not divulging that). He knows when I really, really love something (“love, love, love”).

But let me tell you, I did not know that once we got married he would forget where ANYTHING was. It happened in the turn of a key (the key that opened our new house). It was a missing phone charger (it’s in your drawer… where it always is). It’s a black fleece (packed by him, unloaded by him and placed somewhere by him). You get it.

Now, I appreciate the credit for being an ominous power source in our household. He’s clearly relinquished all responsibility for holding down the house to yours truly. That’s certainly flattering.

But, it’s still so very interesting that no matter how organized I’ve made that household, that the same common sense doesn’t transfer. The ability he has to predict my emotions somehow doesn’t carry over to the same train of thought when it comes to where things should go. I mean, I know it’s difficult to assume a dish towel would be next to the sink. And, I wouldn’t blame someone for not looking in their drawer for a certain pair of socks.

Oh wait – yes I would.

But I will say, that I don’t actually believe he’s lost something when he asks me that “where” question. I think it’s just step 1 of looking. He assumes he can skip the search because I automatically know. (again, flattering). So, where you and I would open a couple of cabinets to find the glass we want, men just ask first and avoid the chance they don’t find it in cabinet one. Like a subconscious, automatic, intrinsic quality that launches into action the minute you’re names on a contract somewhere.

Gosh, but it has to make you smile just a little bit, right? Mostly, because I love that he knows I am in charge. And secondly, because I know that he’d help me look for something that I had lost, for as long as it took to find it… Like my computer charger… twice…in two weeks. Once, thanks to the rapid fire packing we did to move out of the apartment. And second, when the sneaky camera crew hid it from their shot last weekend. (I don’t really have to mention that I was the one that found it, both times, when he wasn’t around).

So, gather round ladies. Build up that patience! Pat yourself on the back for effortlessly earning a reputation for authority and know-how. My opinion? I am building quite a case for that allowance I keep mentioning…