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The Crap in His Pockets

I mentioned in this post that our mattress-less futon was still sitting in two pieces in the family room because we’d lost the pins that hold the thing together during our move, but what I didn’t say was how certain I was that Michael had lost them. I was sure it was all his fault. I just knew it. After all, I’d watched him take the futon apart in Harlem, watched the various screws and bolts and pins roll across the hardwood floors. I’d scrambled to pick up the errant hardware and I’d put it all together in one of our nightstand drawers and then taped it shut, all the while fearing I’d missed something, irritated that he’d left the hardware to roll into oblivion, certain we’d come up short in LA. So when we unpacked everything and, in fact, two integral pieces of hardware were missing, I knew he was the one to blame.

Meanwhile, he was adamant that he had not lost the pins, he’d put them in a safe place, they were around here somewhere.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen two L-shaped metal pins somewhere?”
“I’m positive.”
“Because I know they are around here somewhere. I know it.”
“Haven’t seen them. Pretty sure you lost them.”
“I didn’t lose them. They’re here somewhere.”

Then I’d watch, shaking my head, while he tore through boxes and rummaged through tools, muttering to himself that he knew he had them, he knew he saw them after we unloaded the truck in Los Angeles, they’ve got to be around here somewhere.

When I wash Mike’s laundry I find the strangest things in his pockets – bottle caps, drill bits, rubber washers, half-chewed dog biscuits. These items end up in my own pockets, and then they find their way into various drawers and baskets and sometimes, my jewelry box. Why don’t I just put them with his tools? Normally I would, but for the four months we lived with my parents, I didn’t know where his tools were, so whenever I’d empty his pockets, or clean off the top of his nightstand, I’d put the random odds and ends in my jewelry box. (Not the bottle caps and half-chewed dog biscuits, mind you. Just the drill bits and rubber washers.) This weekend I was cleaning up the bedroom, putting away some of the jewelry I’d worn during the week. I opened my jewelry box and rolled my eyes because there amongst the baubles were two allen wrenches. Clearly from Michael’s pockets.Β And then it hit me. Like a slow-motion scene in a movie, the memory came flooding back. Β It’s August. I’m cleaning the guest room we’re living in at my parent’s house. There are two L-shaped pins on the night table and I put them in my jewelry box because I don’t know where else to put them and I figure they’re probably important. Flash forward to this conversation, had as I’m digging through my jewelry box deciding which earrings to pair with that day’s outfit:

“Are you sure you haven’t seen two L-shaped metal pins somewhere?”
“I’m positive.”
“Because I know they are around here somewhere. I know it.”
“Haven’t seen them. Pretty sure you lost them.”
“I didn’t lose them. They’re here somewhere.”

You guys. He didn’t lose them. I’ve been looking at those damn pins nearly every day for six months, all the while rolling my eyes and tsk-tsk-tsk-ing because Michael lost the pins that hold our futon together. So I snapped a picture of the pins with my BlackBerry and emailed it to Michael with a note that read, “Do you need these? Can I toss them?”

futon pins

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  • LOL. Don’t you just hate when you’re wrong like that? ESPECIALLY when you’ve made a point of telling him it was his fault? At least you found them. πŸ™‚

    • I do hate it when I make myself look like an idiot. πŸ˜€

  • This literally made me giggle, out loud. Great story. πŸ™‚

    • Yay! I’m so glad you thought so. Sometimes I amaze myself. But at least I can admit when I’m wrong. πŸ˜‰

  • Hawk

    Don’t worry. Us men folk have long since realized and accept that it’s ALL our fault. Every bit if it.

  • Tara

    At least you Admited It. (And Hawk – how can you know that? You’re not married!)

  • Anonymous

    After the first time it also happened to me that I couldn’t find the hardware to reassemble our futon platform, I learned to tape it to the bottom of the platform — we moved a lot. This really works with anything you disassemble and have to reassemble.

    I’m reading your blog because I just signed up with disqus and I wanted to see who the people were who made this service available. I looked at the photos of all the guys who run the operation and saw that you were the lone woman in this office! I think you must be very strong, though. My son is a computer geek and went through high school in Oakland as the youngest member of the BMUG group, so I’m very familiar with these kinds of guys. I see that you live in Oakland; it’s not an easy city to live in… but neither is Jinan in China where I’m living now.

    I teach intensive training programs to oil field workers, engineers, rig men, tool pushers, etc. who work in the oil fields of the Middle East, North Africa and other parts of the world such as Nicaragua and Indonesia. All that male energy can be overwhelming at times, and sometimes I have to assert who’s in control of the classroom.

    I read your post about how sick you were with the flu… this happened to me also when I first came to California and got a flu shot working at the Irvine Company, back in 1974. I suffered from allergies, so hadn’t realized that I was already sick with the flu when I got the flu shot; nobody warned me back then that you shouldn’t do this. I was very fortunate to survive that 10 days of raging fever and chills. I really thought I was going to die, too.

    So take care of yourself. Find out what you can do to rebuild your immune system. When you’re tired, rest and don’t let yourself get to the point of physical exhaustion or you’re likely to get very sick again. Make sure that you drink plenty of fluids to restore your body. Eat only the healthiest food of the best quality possible… Get advice from people who know about healing and how to restore your health. You might want to consider a sound healing session.

    • Thank you so much for your words of wisdom and advice! But I must say, I do not work for Disqus. However, my good friend Kim DOES work for Disqus, and you can find her blog at

      Best wishes to you! <3