The Tissue & The Toothpaste

(Side note: the title sounds like one of those children’s books that uses reverse psychology to make kids want to eat vegetables or go to bed on time… except this one would be about blowing their noses and brushing their teeth. I think I’m on to something here.)

Other than the time Jacob “measured my grumpiness” I haven’t shared many stories about disagreements fights we’ve had. (I really wanted to use the word “disagreement” rather than “fight” but then I feel like I’m one of those girls that, when all the girlfriends are sharing about the funniest/worst/most recent fight they’ve had with their husband, says, “We’ve never had a fight.” And all the girlfriends roll their eyes because they know that is impossible and that she just doesn’t like the word “fight.” But really? Let’s just call it what it is. We all fight, even if you choose to label it a “disagreement.”) But, in all honesty, we really don’t fight often… especially considering the fact that we live, work, sleep, and now parent together. We are literally together 24/7. (Jacob is not going to love my use of the word “literally” there because we aren’t “literally” together 24/7. Whatever.)

ANYways, I wanted to take this opportunity to share one of the silly things we fight about: the toothpaste. It’s not the type of toothpaste or even the fact that Jacob squeezes it from the middle (though that would be a totally legit thing to fight about). It’s the toothpaste’s location.

Every single evening, I have to basically climb into the shower (fully clothed) to retrieve the toothpaste from the back corner (which is as far away as possible). And every single evening, I put it in a perfect spot on the counter where both Jacob and I can easily access it from our preferred teeth-brushing spots (the shower and the sink respectively). Without fail, the next morning, I go to look for the toothpaste, in the perfect spot I last placed it, and guess what? It’s. Not. There. Which is mind-boggling because I usually brush my teeth later in the evening than him and earlier in the morning. There is no logical explanation why it shouldn’t still be there. But sure enough, I awkwardly climb halfway into our shower, look in the deepest, darkest corner, behind 3 half-used bottles of Suave shampoo, 1 very heavy bottle of Listerene, and (the strangest item in our shower) a bottle of beard shampoo, and there it is. How did it get there? I have no idea. Do I consider shaking him awake from his sleep to ask this question? Every single day.

To be fair, I know that there are a few teeny tiny things that I do that can cause a tiff or two here and there. Like my use (or lack thereof) of tissues. I’ve always been a sniffler. Growing up in central California, my allergies were always going crazy and I had a constant sniffle. I seriously don’t know if I knew what an un-stuffed nose felt like until I moved away for college. So now, when I’m sick, (which seems to be at least once a month), instead of blowing my nose, I just sniffle. I don’t even notice it… but Jacob does. He will kindly ask if I would “like a tissue” and I will cordially decline. After about 17 more sniffles, he will subtly bring me a tissue, acting like it was just “on his way” back from the kitchen. Of course I’ll decline, “Oh. I’m fine. You really didn’t need to do that.” I’m certain that his mental response is, “Yes. Yes, I did need to do that.” 32 more sniffles and then he loses it, “Will you PLEASE blow your nose?!”

It seems silly to fight about such dumb things… but then again, it’s kind of nice to be able to say that the only thing we fought about today was the toothpaste. Or was it the tissue? See? I can’t even remember. And I like that.

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