Friday, March 6, 2015

Are You Listening?

Hubby is home from work. I know this for a fact since the house, blissfully peace-filled just a few moments ago, now reverberates with crashing doors, foot stomps, slammed lunch box on counter, angry/anxiety ridden inhales and exhales, and a barely masked growling.


"How did your day go, Sweetie?" I ask benignly. 

There was an almost inaudible rumbling from my deep voiced Mate, but due to the thunderous storm clouds surrounding said mate's countenance I decided to pass on asking him for a more distinct repeat. It's odd how my Aspie demands that we speak slowly and clearly to him with our mouths directed towards him, but he usually mumbles his responses to us while facing away from us. 

"Ah hah," I respond. 

I wait for a few minutes as he empties his lunchbox, wipes the interior, then puts it up in it's place in the pantry.

Funny thing about this ritual. Steve often takes something out in the kitchen to use, but steadfastly refuses to put it back where it had been. He insists that the kitchen is his too, and he should be able to keep things wherever he wishes.

I have no problem with that, except that he never puts something away in the same place twice, with the exception of his lunchbox. Which I never need to locate. Therefore I spend an inordinate amount of time searching for gadgets and gizmos that I need for meal preparation. Occasionally so much so that I forget what I was there for!

"Do you have plans for this evening?" I ask, trying to determine the best time to have supper ready. 

There is no response from The Hubster. Instead he heads over to our pellet stove to check if it needs filling. This is a mandatory, just returned home from work chore that must be completed within four minutes of arrival. I haven't actually noticed it in The Rule Book, but I've been assured in the past that it's there.

"Manlet is at baseball practice which should end about six. I have to be at school by six for a spring sports parents meeting. I'm trying to figure out when I should make supper," I said as I follow him from the kitchen through the dining room.

Still no answer from Steve, though he seems puzzled that the pellet stove seems as full today as when he filled it up yesterday. Since he is just standing and staring, I decided to enlighten him.

"I haven't heard the stove kick on all day. Perhaps it needs cleaning." 

Our pellet stoves, this one on the main floor and the one in the basement, occasionally need ashes removed and a quick vacuuming in order to run properly. Apparently this need for cleaning would hold true for today, as Hubby slams down the hopper lid, turns on his heel nearly bowling me over, then stomps off to retrieve the shop vac. The very vacuum that has "shop" in it's name but that he refuses to keep in his shop, insisting that he has to keep it in the basement next to that level's pellet stove in case he needs to clean one of the stoves, which in turn requires him to run from the shop to the house when he needs to use it in the shop, then necessitates his running it back to the basement when he is done with it in the shop of which it was named for. 

Which makes no sense to me.

I go ahead and begin meal preparation, thinking that I can grab my supper before I leave, have it ready for Manlet when he walks in the door starving, and The Hubster can help himself to whenever he is ready.

As the banging and clanging has ceased by the pellet stove in dining room, I deem supper done. I turn to see Steve standing like a deer caught in headlights behind me.

"Oh good, you heard me! Why didn't you answer?" I asked.

"Of course I heard you!" said The Hubster gruffly. 

I laugh. "Well, I don't know if you did or not when you don't acknowledge or answer."

"Why would I have to do that?" blurts my Aspie. "I just don't care!"

Ah hah. Exactly. Now why didn't I know that, lol.


  1. Oh yes, I recognise the end of the peaceful house, the banging and crashing about, and the total lack of consideration for anyone else! If I get up in the night, I creep about like a mouse so as not to wake Mr H, if he gets up, it's light on, moan and groan as he gets out of bed, a few expletives when he can't find his slippers, bang the bedroom door open, come back, blow nose very loudly, moan and groan getting back into bed, and then he's snoring immediately, leaving me wide awake! grrr
    Hannah x

    1. boy do i know that scenario! lol, lots of late night reading and writing for me...

    2. Me too! Once he wakes me I get up and try to use the time constructively. I read, or write, or knit.
      Hannah x

    3. sometimes i just watch my girly flicks - anne of green gables or sense & sensibility - lovely in the dark with a fluffy blanket & big cup of fresh coffee...