It Was Missing

Oh no.

I couldn’t find it.

It was lost.

So I dialed my husband’s cell phone. When he picked up I went, “Tom, this is in an emergency.” I didn’t say it in a this-is-a-real-emergency tone. It was a playful tone.

Tom didn’t seem to get this though.

“What happened? Are the kids okay? Did you get spooked again? Amber, I told you, if you hear something moving around in the front yard it’s just antelope. It’s not an alien. And no, that thing you saw in the corner was not a ghost. It was probably the curtain,” Tom said.

“The kids are fine. I’m not spooked,” I said, rifling through the cabinet for my missing treasure. Where could it be? WHERE WAS IT? Maybe an alien abducted it…

“Then…why are you calling me? I’m at work.” Now Tom was irritated. And yes, I know I shouldn’t call him at work but let it be known that sometimes he just calls me just to see what’s up. And usually when he calls it’s not a good time. I’m usually struggling to get Natalie to brush her teeth and when I grab the phone she escapes and hides. Or I’m trying to get Natalie to sleep and when I turn and get the phone, she races from the room and yells, “Bye!” and then I have to wrangle her all over again.

“I know you’re at work. But it’s missing!” I wailed.

“What’s missing?” Tom asked impatiently.

Oh. Right. I should probably tell him that.

“The Hangover. My DVD! It was here in the movie cabinet and now it’s gone. I really wanted to watch Mike Tyson try to act tonight. I wanted to see that Chinese man who appears on like every show and movie jump out of the trunk of the car naked,” I complained. I pushed aside some of my other DVDs.

“Oh.” Now Tom sounded guilty. “I took it to watch tonight.”

See, if he finishes all his walks with his dog he gets to sit and watch DVDs until he gets a call telling him to show up with his dog.

“Tom! That was my DVD!” Seriously, it was MINE. I paid for it with my Christmas money.

“Technically it’s ours,” Tom pointed out.

“You should have asked! You don’t appreciate it like I do!”

“Yes, I do,” Tom argued.

“No, you don’t. Take Billy Madison for example. You never laugh when Billy is making the shampoo and conditioner fight. That scene is hilarious and you just SIT there,” I whined.

“It’s not that funny,” Tom said. “He’s making shower products argue.”

“It’s hilarious!” I insisted. “I want my Hangover back!”

“You can have it tomorrow,” Tom said calmly. “Go watch Pacey’s Creek or something.”

“It’s DAWSON’S Creek and I don’t feel like it. I have to be all angsty when I watch that. I’m not feeling angsty. I’m feeling silly and I want to watch The Hangover,” I fumed.

“You can’t,” Tom said simply. I hate how he can remain so calm while we’re arguing. I just want him to react sometimes. Don’t just STAND there.

“You’re mean,” I said and hung up. In the end I decided to watch Billy Madison.

And yes, I cracked up at the fight between the shampoo and conditioner.