Put A Lid On It

Dear Husband,
Yesterday I was not very impressed with you. You want to know why? Not really? Well I’m going to tell you anyway.
You ring me up in the afternoon to tell me that “Hey, the roof guy is coming tomorrow so can you go over and speak to the neighbours tonight about the logistics of dog-sitting and get the husband to help you move the tiles which you’ll need to go and grab from next door”. So on my last night of freedom before you return from your conference, I have to run your errands because you couldn’t be bothered when you were at home and I am expected to rope in Neighbourette’s husband as well.
When I got to the neighbours’ two doors up I realised that the slightly disgruntled end to your call (which you wanted to blame on me supposing that I had vented to Neighbourette and she was now being a bit frosty to you out of principle) was in fact your fault. After asking Neighbourette to do us a favour and having her say “yes, even though I have two small children and a small dog and a small backyard, I will take in your whoppingly huge Great Dane puppy for the day” and “you can let your roofer know”, you replied with “oh, I already did”. Now I believe that what you meant was “I already let the roofer know I was happy to go ahead but I would call him back only if there was an issue” (which there now wasn’t), however that is not the way it came across.
Our actual next door neighbours were not home. And although you have met them and talked to the father-in-law who said you could go for your life and take their spare roof tiles any time, I don’t know them from a bar of soap. I felt somewhat awkward about entering their back gate after obviously knocking on the front door and finding them not at home. I felt really awkward however about taking stuff out of their back garden and traipsing it across to our yard without their knowledge. It would be really inconvenient if someone called the cops because they thought I was robbing the place. I’d have to say this guy I don’t know totally said I could.
Fourthly and Fifthly:
You didn’t make it clear where the tiles were (we will also return to this point later). You didn’t really indicate how many I was supposed to bring back. Now these ones are together because they were kind of linked to each other.
Once I got past the fact that I’d have to go and take the tiles unannounced, I walked into the back yard to see a CRAP LOAD of tiles by the house and by the fence. I couldn’t see any other tiles in the yard so assumed they must be the ones (even though I had a nagging suspicion that they were not the same as ours). That was my first thought. My next thought was there are over a hundred of these suckers and you wanted me to “bring the tiles back to our place”?. Not 10 tiles. Not 20 tiles. The tiles. So I called you to check. I told you what I could see and where they were and how many there were and you were like “just bring what you can back to our place, we probably won’t need all of them”. Way to go with clear instructions there number boy.
Those tiles are flipping heavy. Which I realised after I got off the phone and picked up a couple of them (concerned that I was going to come face to face with a redback or a funnelweb or something).I also realised that it would be absolutely ridiculous running a huge number of trips between the two properties because I couldn’t physically carry that many at a time. So I went to Neighbourette’s house (again) and asked to borrow a wheelbarrow. I then came back with said wheelbarrow and started to load tiles. I got to about 13 before trying to lift everything only to find that I wasn’t all that confident I could control it. I then took some of the tiles out (this process was now stretching out even longer in my head) before slowly wheeling the first load to our yard.
Once I was in our yard however (before I got around to unloading) I tried to get a decent vantage point of our roof. One that was close enough for me to clearly see the tiles (which is not as easy as it sounds) because I still had a funny feeling that the tiles I had in the wheelbarrow were not the same tiles. Which they weren’t. What followed was a call to you to say they’re really not the same tiles at which point you told me to call the roofer. So I called the roofer and said I have these tiles and this is what they look like and where they were and he said they are not the same tiles so I called you back and relayed the message that we can’t use them because they are not the same tiles and we’d have to work out something else.
So now I was feeling like a cranky idiot on our front lawn in the fading light with a wheelbarrow full of tiles which I hadn’t asked for and didn’t need, a grumbling stomach that was hungry for dinner and a puppy who was howling down the neighbourhood because he could hear me but couldn’t get to me from behind the gate. I still had to wheel all the tiles back next door however, unload them to where they came from and head over to Neighbourette’s house (for the third time) to return the wheelbarrow I had borrowed.
The above were all reasons that I was not impressed with you yesterday but it was not clear until today however just how much could have been avoided if I had received some clearer instructions as to where the damn tiles were in the first place. So I am adding the fact that you could have saved me time, money, effort and heartache.
This morning I learned that around the side of the house that borders ours (ie not in the back yard, or by the back door or by the main gate where I told you I was looking) there were two neat little stacks of roof tiles that are exactly like ours. These tiles are smaller, lighter and fewer in number than the other large piles of tiles on the property.
Dear Husband, you owe me.
Faithfully yours,
Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken during my trip to the zoo at the beginning of the year


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