We’ve got a bit of a battle happening here at Casa Tickled Pink.
It has been going on for over a week and I just can’t take it anymore.
Just when I thought I had a handle on all things domestic, this one seems to have escaped my control.
The Blond and the Brunette like to take leftovers to school for lunch. Don’t get me wrong, this is great. It sure takes the pressure off of making lunches each evening, and provided the thermos comes back, it’s pretty easy to do. See what I did there? Provided the thermos comes back… The thermos always comes back. It just doesn’t necessarily come back in a timely fashion.
One of the two is much better at his lunchkit responsibilities than the other. In fact, last year at locker clean-out time, there were some ummm, misplaced lunches <cough cough> located, ummm, in the bottom of the locker. It would have required some kind of carbon-dating science to determine their exact origins, but needless to say – they were moldy oldies. This year, I am trying to stay more on top of things, replacing missing lunchkits with plain old plastic bags and definitely opting not to send the thermos as often. This year the thermos went missing very early on. No big deal. Until…
Last weekend the thermos came home.
I haven’t seen this particular thermos in…um…some time.
I wasn’t going to open it.
I was staring at it while doing the dishes the first night. My instinct was to just tip it into the trash, but the ECBF thought that was a ridiculous idea, stating “there’s nothing wrong with it, it just needs to be washed”. Still. I’m not opening it. If he thinks it will be so easy to clean, fine, he can clean it.
So I finished the dishes and just left it there. Next to the sink.
The next day, while making dinner, the ECBF noted that the thermos needed to be washed. He did the dishes after dinner and came to bed. In the morning, I went to make coffee and there it was. Next to the sink. Before heading to work, I rinsed the cups and loaded the dishwasher. I left it there.
This pattern continued for the next few nights.
Today – I went to make a batch of cookies, and got all my stuff lined up on the counter, and there it was. The thermos. Next to the sink.
We’re in a stand off. Me, the ECBF, and the thermos.
I’m not washing it. I don’t want to open it. I don’t even recall what it was that we put in there in the first place, and there’s no way I want to revisit it. Now. A month or more later.
One of us will crack, eventually. But it won’t be me.