- Can you put this in your purse?
This translates to I want this but I don't want to deal with keeping track of it or carrying it around, so here , you do it. I carry a purse the size of a small foreign car because I like to keep a lot of stuff in it: my wallet, cell phone, car keys, office keys, my ipod, a book, a small knitting project, chapstick, lotion, business cards, a note pad, and whatever else looks good. I do not carry a jumbo sized purse so I can lug around someone else's crap.
- What time is it?
The response is inevitably going to be "time for you to wear the watch I bought you."
- Do you know where my wallet/car keys/cell phone/jacket/shoes/sunglasses are?
This one wouldn't bug me if it didn't happen at least once a day, usually just as I'm rushing out the door to get somewhere. Listen, buddy, it is not that hard to put your wallet/phone/keys/whatever in the same place every day. Sure, we all misplace things sometimes . Embarrassingly, I once stuck my wallet in my tote bag instead of my purse, left the tote bag in the car, and my friend had to buy me dinner. But every morning should not start with a frantic tossing of the house looking for your stuff. I put a basket by the door for you, use it. Come inside, put your crap in the basket, it will be there in the morning and we won't waste time searching for it.
- Can you pick me up some _____?
The mister works three miles from our house. Three miles. And he works nice short days (well, short by my standards). He leaves for work an hour after I do and gets home at least an hour and a half before me. And his commute takes him right by a drug store and a grocery and within three blocks of a Target or Walmart.
My commute, on the other hand, though relatively short in terms of distance, takes me nearly an hour because public transit, instead of sending the transit line right up 35W to Minneapolis, chose to route it through the mall, the airport, St. Paul, and several sketchy neighborhoods. I often work longer days than him, resulting in my leaving my house at an ungodly hour and getting home to hear him talk about how he went for an awesome two hour bike ride after work.
And my short car trip home from the train station takes me past a gas station and a liquor store - not the two most useful locations. I see no reason why I should extend my day and drive out of my way to buy him more deodorant when he is a grown man perfectly capable of stopping for 5 minutes on his way home and getting some himself.
Lest my above complaining make you think I hate my husband, I don't. In fact, if these piddly little problems are all we face, I'll take them and be glad for it. He does a lot of nice things for me, like buying me the giant purse I carry around and fixing that weird squeak my car was making and installing pedal extenders on my bicycle because he was worried I was putting too much pressure on my knees. But, really, is it too much to ask that a nearly-30 year old man keep track of his own junk?