Snapshots from Green Victoria (tedwords) wrote,
Snapshots from Green Victoria

My work friend Donna agrees with me that in every relationship, there's usually one person that's obsessive about closing the drawers and closet doors, and the other person may try, but just doesn't get it.

I fall into the latter category. No matter how hard I try to close the closet door completely, it usually ends up slightly ajar. Bureau drawers are also a problem. Something always gets in the way, for some reason, and there's always an inch or two that remains open, making the bureau look slack-jawed and sloppy.

Both of my significant relationships have been with door closers. Josie, as I've said, time and again, didn't earn her nickname "cleaning Nazi" for nothing. And das Corbster, well, he's practically a full blooded German, so everything practically shines in our apartment. Towels folded neatly, shirts tucked in, military style, drawers shut, dishes stacked just i type this, he's installing shelving, no word of a lie.

So what happens when drawer closer meets drawer closer? They actually get along very well, thankfully.

Last night was no exception, as Corb and I made our way to the homestead to celebrate Tiger's eighth birthday. It was a small party: Corb and I, and Josie and her boyfriend, Drew, and Kayla. One negative aspect of trying to remain friends is that, unfortunately, our parents haven't decided to get into the spirit of things: once Josie's mom discovered that Corb and me would be there, she decided to see Tiger tomorrow. My parents made similar alternative arrangements.

The other problem, of course, is money. Josie's facing an enormous electric bill on the house, and, as I've mentioned, I'm dirt poor until, well, today, when my bonus comes in. That made last night's present pile somewhat lean, but don't worry, my little guy's birthday extends well into the weekend, and he'll be getting a series of surprises, not just one big pile to be opened in one sitting.

I have to say, it can be somewhat disconcerting, sitting at the dinner table, Corb on my left, and Josie on my right. Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that they get along. That Josie teases Corb by calling him, "Corbs," that Corb teases her about her driving habits, or tries to dump frosting on her head. These two cleaning nazis can actually march in formation, which is nice. That we can all live in harmony is even better.

But still, there are little things that can cause me to pause a bit. Take, for example, feed time. Last night's dinner was just pizza and french fries and cake (all of Tiger's favorites). Corb and I picked up the pizza, and I had ordered it from a place I've always loved. Particularly the french fries. I had been looking forward to those.

So it came as something of a shock when Josie grabbed the fries first. I didn't mind that, but I expected, for some reason, that she would then pass the bag my way. Instead, she passed them on to Drew, who took a big handful.

"What?" I thought to myself, arching my brows. "Those are my fries! If I end up with only one or two, I'm going to freak!"

Everyone will be pleased to know that I had more than enough, come my turn.

Or cake time. Josie did the honors, cutting the cake and scooping the ice cream. But don't think I didn't notice that while I received two scoops, Drew received four.

So what did I do about this? I told myself to get over it, and moved on, and thoroughly enjoyed the evening. These little things are minor in the grand scheme of the fabric of our lives, and petty squibbles that I can easily overlook.

But is she serves him more of her homemade broccoli casserole than I get...well...look out...
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