Tom asked yesterday: "What days do the trash guys come?"
We've lived in our house 8 years, people! 8 years! Don't you think this is information he should have?
Lest you think he makes me do all the trash duty at our house, let me explain that we have a really cushy refuse situation. The trash guys come all the way to the top of our driveway, so our trash and recycling cans stay in the same place at all times. We just drop our trash in at anytime. So I guess Tom wouldn't really NEED to know when trash day is, but still.
FYI: He doesn't know how to check our home voice mail either. If I die, the messages from all the single ladies out there will just have to pile up. Sorry, girls.
Speaking of trash, we have a difference of opinions when it comes to car trash, too.
Last Christmas when we were looking for my sweet new ride, I said I loved the car but couldn't see where I'd be able to hang my trash bag.
Tom: "What do you need a trash bag in the car for? Won't that just encourage you to have a trashy car?"
"I need a bag to put our paper towels in when we're done with them," pointing out that I like to keep a roll of paper towels in the glove box.
Tom: "Why do you need to keep paper towels in the car?"
Me: "Uh...in case we spill our food or drinks, Sherlock."
Tom: With great flourish, "Well then maybe we shouldn't eat or drink in the new car!"
Wow. Not sure what planet he is from, but it's certainly not mine.