FANCY THAT FANCY THIS

Today I asked my husband to buy an onion.

Ali: Where should I get the onion from?

Me: The cart guy on the corner sells onions.

Ali: It’s raining, do you think he’s out there?

Me: He was there earlier, when I came back from work.

Ali: Can I get the onion from Duane Reade?

Me: Why would you get the onion from Duane Reade? Do they even sell onions? Can you not walk 5 steps to the cart guy?

Ali: What kind of onion? White or red?

Me: Get a yellow onion.

Ali: YELLOW? They sell YELLOW onions?

Me: I REFUSE to answer any more questions about this. Just don’t come back without an onion.

Guess what?

1. Ali came back with a bag of 7 onions.
2. They are all white.
3. He also came back with the bag of 7 onions in ANOTHER plastic bag, which is just excellent for the environment.
4. The bag was totally wet from the rain so it’s not reusable.

So now I have 7 onions, a plastic bag that can’t be reused, and my blood pressure just shot up 15 points.

In conclusion, my husband has a problem following instructions and I have a problem micromanaging. And now we have enough onions to last us the next month.

My husband returned from a 2+ week trip a few days ago, bringing with him 15 pairs of dirty socks and an Echo Show.

Yes, we have a new member of the household, and her name is Alexa.

Pros:

• I like her name.

Cons: 

• Alexa doesn’t understand anything I say.
• Alexa doesn’t understand anything Ali says.
• Alexa can’t do anything useful.
• Alexa knows less than Siri.
• Alexa knows even less than Kortana. (Ali will be especially upset at this bullet point as he has an affinity for Kortana. I think he feels sorry for her.)
• I feel like Alexa is constantly watching me.
• I have to hear Ali and Maya yelling “Alexa!” at the top of their lungs every few minutes, as though she’s 97-years-old and has a hearing problem.
• Alexa is taking up valuable counter space.
• The box Alexa arrived in is still in the middle of the floor. I trip over it daily.

I begged Ali to return her.

Me: “Please stop cluttering our apartment with useless stuff. Please.”

Ali’s response? “Alexa! Play upbeat orchestra music.”

Alexa: “Sorry, I don’t understand that.”

Well at least Alexa and I have one thing in common: neither of us understand my husband.

Last Night @ 9:00 pm: My husband went to the freezer, removed a Trader Joe’s molten lava cake, popped it into the microwave, removed it from the microwave, settled himself on the sofa, and devoured 370 calories and 25 grams of sugar (I checked the back of the box) in about 90 seconds.

Last Night @ 9:20 pm: My husband went to the fridge, removed three stalks of Trader Joe’s organic celery, settled himself on the sofa, and devoured 5 calories and 0 grams of sugar (an estimate).

This Morning @ 3:15 am: I walked into the kitchen, noticed a wayward celery stalk on the floor near the trash can, became anxious that it may have attracted cockroaches, imagined an overnight cockroach feeding frenzy (I FEAR cockroaches and like to imagine worst case scenarios at all times), and then by sheer will decided not to pick it up, just to see if Ali or Maya would.

This Morning @ 6:38 am: Maya walked into the kitchen, stepped over the celery stalk, poured herself an enormous bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch (I’ll let you guess who facilitated the purchase of this healthy breakfast choice), stepped back over the celery stalk and proceeded to the dining table.

This Morning @ 7:02 am: Ali walked into the kitchen, stepped over the celery stalk, made himself tea and a giant bowl of oatmeal with raspberries, flaxseed, and approximately 8 tablespoons of brown sugar, stepped back over the celery stalk and proceeded to the dining table.

This Morning @ 7:55 am: Ali and Maya left for school, celery stalk still on the floor.

This Morning @ 8:02 am: I wondered why I was surprised Ali and Maya didn’t notice the giant green vegetable on the floor, threw the celery stalk in the trash, and left for work.

This Morning @ 8:03 am: I concluded that I live with two lazy, bug-welcoming, sugar-obsessed, potentially nearsighted individuals, who care little about having a clean kitchen, me, or really anything but themselves.

On the plus side I didn’t have to drop Maya to school. So victory?