Okay, you guys know me pretty well by now.

I am not really a wHiner…

Nor a complainer…

Let’s even go for the not-so-much in the ‘dweller’ or ‘hold onto a grudge’ category.

And you know how many of you have written me (well, you know if you did, and now you know you had oodles of company) about promoting the Nearly Perfect Husband directly – ‘do not pass go’ – to Perfect Husband status.

But now I am about to tell you why this is not going to happen any time soon, and here is wHy:

I am big on creating a very homey environment. It is far from a perfectly clean environment, having many-much shepHerd hair on horizontal and even – at times – vertical surfaces, and also suspended in mid-air (or swirling in mid-air depending on how recent Marshal Dillon Dingle has hurricaned his way through whatever particular space you may be observing at any given time.

So, now that we have that straight, let’s talk about color.

Color is a big part of creating a warm and hug-gy environment, and I may have mentioned, – at some point or other – how much time I have put into the color selections for my homes each time I have either moved in, or built, or renovated one over the years beginning with a not-so-well-thought out condominium purchased in 1988.

Since then, I have had a lot of chances to mess up my colors. Oh, how I have learned, I tell you – through the condo, our first house-home, and then as we were building our next house (the Disposable Shack) and then again when we bought – and began to renovate –  The Inn in Maine, and then again when we decided we were going to live in The Inn permanently at some point.

And so here we are at now… in Maine for a few days, and hanging out with my main colors:

Trim: Benjamin Moore Mascarpone (a lovely warm shade of white… a warm snow as far as my brain works (but not a yellow snow because that would be gross, no matter how familiar it is to me … and my shepHerds)).

Wall colors and furniture colors, (including wallpapers) around the house: Golds and neutral golden tans, warm reds, sage-y and deeper greens.

So the house is warm and welcoming…

And also?

Christmas-sy.

Seriously!

It doesn’t look like Christmas most of the year…. but greens and golds and reds? Toss up a few twinkle lights and greenery and a Santa here, snowman there?

Totally Christmas.

By design.

So, I ask you.

In anything you have read above – any mention of color at all – do you see any…. ANY blue? Caribbean, flashy, bright or otherwise?

No.

No you do not.

Not in my living room, not in my kitchen, not in my bedrooms.

It’s not that we are discriminatory about blue. I actually like blue.

Perhaps I should add that I don’t have a lot of plastic on display.

I do not have a lot of plastic on display.

But none of these realities – not any of them – seems to dissuade my Nearly Perfect Husband from displaying the plastic bottle of Dawn dishwashing liquid on the counter beside the sink.

So, one day a few weeks ago, I asked him to please – when he is done with it – put the Dawn dishwashing liquid back under the sink.

Just tuck it right under there, spit-spot, when he isn’t using it anymore.

This seems to have been translated – in his pea of a brain – to “Make sure you display the Dawn dishwashing liquid prominently beside the sink at every available opportunity. As a matter of fact, just take the freakin’ Dawn out and put it beside the sink when you think Lis is coming into the room (pronounce my name, ‘lease’ (and say it with love)).

So I talked to him this morning and took the position that he may be being passive aggressive with the Dawn dishwashing liquid, because ever since I asked him to put it away, it seems to me that he has been leaving it out even more. Go figure?

He went into serious denial mode.

Even got a little snotty, if you ask me.

Finally, I said ‘fine’. That it wasn’t that important to me and there would be no repercussions. Have at it. Whatever.

Which I would think he might know meant ‘don’t you freakin’ dare leave the Dawn dishwashing liquid out again… because I am a girl and most boys are capable of translating ‘whatever’ into something life-threatening.

So.

A little later he went out to grab some stuff from the store.

And then I got up to go into the other room to get a snack.

And walked right past my coffee tale with the reds and golds and greens… all set up for Christmas.

And there, smack dab in the middle of my ho-ho-holiday vignette was the electric blue plastic of the Dawn dishwashing liquid.

Fluck it.

I’m going to stab that man in the eye with a fork.

Thanks for readin’.

p.s., It is his birthday. I may wait until tomorrow for the fork thing.

p.s.s., Maybe.

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