I’m a collector of sayings…well, mentally, anyway. And sometimes I write them down. And I for sure save them to Pinterest.
They run the gamut from funny to inspirational.
It was a habit I got into when I owned the store. We made a lot of plaques for the walls to sell, and I was always on the lookout for sayings that either made me laugh or inspired me. It’s a habit I never broke, even after selling the store. And I guess in the back of my mind I hold open the possibility I may need them again some day. But I digress.
The point here is, while we were on vacation we stopped at the one of those truck stop, gas station, gift shop places – Dad’s Place was the name, I think.
They had a plaque that had me laughing out loud. It said, “I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I’m going to blame you.”
I don’t know how I was even able to laugh at it, because it is the story of my life with Mr. Tattered. He has decided that no matter what happens, it’s my fault. It’s not usually in a mad way (although it is sometimes) mostly just in fun. But it irritates the beejeepers out of me, regardless. I even felt the need to show him the sign, it was so perfect. But, he insists it’s the other way around – I blame him.
Anyway, he could have written it. I’m pretty sure he didn’t because we’re not getting any royalties (hmmmm, at least not that he’s ‘fessin’ up to!) But, it fit us to a tee.
Case in point. The other night, Mr. Tattered was missing the water bottle he sets in the bathroom for his “during the night bathroom visits” so he doesn’t need to go all the way to the kitchen for a drink of water. I don’t know why he doesn’t just set a glass on the night stand, but to each his own I guess. Anyway, he claimed to have left it on the kitchen counter, where he put it after he filled it up that morning, and since it wasn’t there now, and was in a location where the kids couldn’t reach it, I must have moved it, so he wanted me to find it. I stood there for a minute in stunned amazement, because I knew I had NOT moved it, wondering how long I was supposed to stand there acting like I was looking for it. I didn’t even know what it looked like! I felt a little like a kid being told to stand there until I could say WHY I had done the (fill in the blank) dumb thing, when kids have no idea why they do dumb things, they just do them.
Eventually I was dismissed, with some under-the-breath mumbling about being on his own, and he went off sulking for the rest of the evening. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. Only the vision of pouring gasoline on a fire kept me from doing it! There is some truth to the notion that as we age we revert back to childhood…
Anyway, mid day the next day, Mr. Tattered comes into the kitchen holding said bottle and announced, “I found the bottle in the bedroom closet where you put it after you figured out what you had done with it.” No, “I’m sorry,” or “Hmmm, guess I had a brain fart.” I’m scared. I think I laughed.
Then last night, I was laying on the bed when he came into the bedroom holding his bottle. I didn’t outright laugh, but I know my corners turned up just so slightly. He proceeded with his self righteous rant about “see, that’s why I didn’t admit anything, I knew you’d be giving me THAT forever…” But his corners were turned up, too.
Aging is an interesting thing, best gone through with a HUGE sense of humor.
“I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was going to blame you! – mr. tattered, er, I mean, anon…”