so the fish said...
  home links archives about contact

« Proud Moments in Parenting | Main | Owen, Month 17 »


(I should have said in the first place that this post is about exactly what it claims to be about. Really, would I do that to you twice?)

We've lived in this house for almost two years now, and there have been some things that have been bothering me about the house for the entire time. Just little things, nothing to get all in a dither about, but they bothered me all the same. When we moved in, I was pregnant. And so if I didn't like the way a particular piece of furniture was arranged, I could a) hope it was one of the five pieces of furniture in the house small enough for me to move in my delicate state, b) just deal with it, or c) ask Chris to move it.

My husband has many wonderful qualities, he's an excellent person, really, but when you say to him "Hey, that (800 pound, hide-a-bed) couch is driving me straight up the wall every single time I walk into the playroom, would you pretty please move it an inch and a quarter the left? And then just nudge the (on wheels, but still impossibly heavy and hard to move piano) half in inch to the right so they will line up?" he says, almost invariably, and I admit that I can see his point, "No."

He won't do it. I can't blame him, really, as the effort required is far out of line with the reward, which to him is nothing anyway since neither the couch nor the piano are bothering him in the least. And I'm sure he does a mental calculation in his head and weighs the relative pain in the assedness of moving whatever I want moved against the pain in the assedness of listening to me bitch about it for a while and decides that sooner or later I will shut up and that tolerating a little wifely nagging is less trouble than shoving and grunting and sweating and so he says no.

And I am happy to do these things myself, but first there was the resident parasite issue and then the recent surgery issue and then the baby hooked to my boob every waking minute of every day issue, plus the ongoing cooking and cleaning and laundry and child wrangling issues, and admittedly the sit on the couch and eat M&Ms as fast as I can shove them into my face until the children wake up issue. But I finally got to it. I moved the couch. I moved the piano. I actually moved both out into the hall and moved the rug underneath then two inches to the left, because that had been bothering the crap out of me too. And then I took all the furniture out of the living room and moved the ridiculously large, heavy, cumbersome rug in there three inches one way and half an inch the other (yes, precisely, I measured just so that I could tell you), and I feel so much better. And Chris didn't even notice, which just further proves why he refused to do it in the first place.

And I'm not complaining here, I actually support this particular refusal to accommodate my more egregious whims. But I am wondering, where do you come down? Does the rug get moved, or is close enough close enough? And what about your spouse? It's a scientific experiment, really. Does every relationship need one rug mover? Do two rug movers drive each other crazy trying to achieve a mutually ideal rug placement? I want to know.

Comments (18)

Wait, is this another one of those "unloading the dishwasher" posts?

I was wondering the same thing as Laura.

fooled them once beth...can't blame them for being gun shy lot...

Hey, I'm interviewing Country Girl today...come on over...she talks about goat penis's and everything.

I am assuming this is not a metaphor of any kind? Assuming it is not, then I think every relationship needs one rug mover. Someone has to just step in and do it. Usually it's the one bothered most by the situation. My husband is a big talker/complainer but not so good on the follow through. So if I want something done, I just make it happen. If it requires a large cash outlay, I tell him before I do it. I figure I owe him that much.

I fall into your camp. Everything has to be *just so.* I think the doctors call it OCD. I call it "neurotic neat freak." Whatevs - everything looks perfect which is just how it should be. And bravo to you for doing it yourself. And if this is indeed another metaphor post...oh well. I bit. Because as I was reading, I was like: OMG - that's SOOOO me. Except for having something perpetually glued to my boob. Don't really know from that.

I think there can be at most one "just so" person in a relationship. I know a couple where both are "just so" people, and it's a little... um, scary.

I'm very "just so" about the bed linens. I never make the bed in the morning, but before I get in, the sheets and comforter have to be equal on both sides. My husband thinks I'm insane. Frequently I have to do this after he's already gotten in bed. But really, who can sleep when one person has 1" more covers on his side than the other??? Not me, that's for sure. ;-)

I too was wondering if this was another euphemism -- especially when you started talking about two rug movers.

It is true . . . this could be another metaphor . . . but in the event that it isn't, my strategy is pretty much the same as my dishwasher strategy (to unload it but so loudly that the husband comes over to help me/stop the ungodly racket). If something was bugging me that much, even if I knew I wouldn't be able to manage moving it alone, I'd try. In plain sight of my husband. Thereby guilting him into doing it himself.

I think there can only be one rug mover unless both of you agree where the rug needs to be moved to and let's be honest, that's probably not going to happen.
I am the rug mover and the husband tends to move it when asked. Although sometimes I just move stuff without asking him to do it because it is easier and I like to do it myself so I later say to him "I rearranged the entire (insert room here) by myself."
He's also learned to just ask where I want it so I don't have to move it later.

OMG im am so confused

Things drive me crazy the same way. My husband just rolls his eyes and does what is asked of him. But like you, things that aren't "just so" will continue to drive me batshit crazy and I can't live like that - so, it gets moved. And sometimes it gets moved back to where it was and well, you know. :)

Huh, our marriage has no rug-movers. That's not to say we haven't arranged a few rugs or couches, but it's only when we repainted or got a new big toy that required getting some other crap out of the way. I am more of a trim-the-carpet-pad-that's-sticking-out-so-I-don't-have-to-move-furniture kind of person.

But. It is worth noting: if it would really make you feel better to have the couch or rug 1" to the left, good for you for moving it. (I mean, seriously, yay! I DETEST relationships in which the female complains that he never does anything she asks and yet she never so much as lifts a finger to try to improve something herself.) And for all the time that you were incapacitated from moving furniture, I think it was reasonable to ask him if he'd mind doing it. But now that you are physically capable, I honestly have to say that I think it's downright silly to even ask him. If having Just.So rugs and furniture is your thing, you would be ridiculous to expect him to do it for you. It would be like him expecting you to restring a guitar because he feels they are getting a little worn. You would be all, "Wtf? what do I care if your guitar strings are worn?" And so he has the same right to feel all, "Wtf? the couch looks good to me."

And so, I guess those are my thoughts on sharing responsibility in marriage. :)

OH wait, I just thought of a caveat. If one person consistently doesn't give a shit about ANYTHING, like the gutters are falling off the house and the toilets are leaking all over the floors and there are cockroaches crawling out of the couch cushions, it is unfair for one person to HAVE to deal with everything in order to protect their investment. So maybe a spouse HAS to listen and help sometimes.... I hate grey areas.

My husband is, as I like to call him, the OCD one about stuff like this in our relationship. So I fall with Chris on this one.

For me the rug so gets moved. I will do it myself but it is so much easier to nag the hubby and unlike you I will not stop until it is done but that's my OCD rearing its ugly head. Besides I wash his underwear the least he could do it move a little furniture. ;) Happy Wife, Happy Life!

feel your pain. I decided a couple of months ago that the dining room was too cluttered and that I wanted to remove a side table. It's kind of a big table and too heavy/awkward for me to tackle myself, so I'm still waiting for J to help me take it downstairs into the basement. (He doesn't care that I think it looks too cluttered, so he's in no hurry whatsoever to move it.)

I can't abide by close enough -- it takes me forever to decide how I want a room to look, but once I do, it HAS to be that way. (I guess that does make me kind of OCD).

BTW, I did find some cool furniture-moving straps on Amazon that I may have to invest in for my own sanity. Unfortunately they won't help with my issues surrounding furniture moves up and down 4 flights of steps. ;-)

Hm, since I'm most decidedly not a rug mover (most of my furniture is still where the movers heaved it 3 years ago), and I've never lived with a rug mover, that's an interesting question I'm not qualified to answer. But yes, I'd be willing to bet that two rug movers cohabitating would drive each other around the bend!

I can't say for sure, but I can only imagine that two rug movers cohabitating would be a messy, messy situation unless they can always agree on rug placement. I mean, the BEST case scenario there (outside of constant agreement) is that they'll both be slyly moving the rug to where they want it and hoping the other doesn't notice, and then you have Rug Wars going on.

(I am the rug mover. My boyfriend is not. It works well this way.)

Post a Comment

Remember personal info?

So the Fish Said...

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear.

- Walt Whitman

Meet the Fish

I want to get a pet duck and keep it in the bathtub.
I am addicted to chap stick and altoids.
I am freakishly flexible.

World's Most Beautiful Child


World's Most Handsome Child


Other Important Things

Clive Owen

Clive Owen
Pretend Celebrity Boyfriend

RSS Syndicate this site (XML)

Design by Emily

© Copyright 2004
All Rights Reserved.