Mea culpa

Earlier this week, I started looking for a specific picture that I just maybe, just possibly wanted to put up in the living room until we can get our Annie Pennington original framed. I couldn't find it. Not being able to find things makes me extremely irritable and short tempered and unpleasant to be around.

Last night after looking everywhere - closets, garage, utility room, behind furniture, you name it, I finally asked R if he knew where it was.

Hmmm, he said, wrinkling his forehead. I'm not sure. What's it look like?

As I was thinking unkind things about men and genetic coding and even my sweet, kind, loving husband, I answered (in a very short tempered manner) It's a framed picture. With a house, and grassy field, and some bee hives. It's called sourdough honey and it was expensive.

Now, saying this, I totally expected him to look for it too. Which he did in a way, but it was halfhearted. That added to my crabbiness. FOR GODS SAKE MAN! I SAID THIS WAS IMPORTANT!!!!!!!! Yet, I also snapped at him when he looked in the closets, cause I had looked there. And when he looked in the garage, cause I had looked there. And when he went upstairs, because I had looked there too. And then, when he had the audacity to tell me he didn't know where it was, I pulled the "fine" card.

As in:
R: I don't know where it is, B.
Me: Fine
R: Blah blah blah blah
Me: Fine.
R: blah blah blah blah
Me: F.I.N.E
R: sighs heavily and wisely drops the subject.

This morning, we were headed out to the St. Louis Science Center, and I decided to take another look around the garage. After all, it WAS R that did most of the moving around of stuff in there, so it could be anywhere. I still couldn't find it.

R: (unwisely) What are you looking for?
Me: That picture
R: (freezing in his tracks) uhhhh.......
Me: It was with that other picture - the one we hung up in our bedroom. They were wrapped in brown packing and they were both in the utility room.
R: I don't know where it is, B.
Me: It was $250. We can't afford another one.
R: We'll find it. It's got to be here somewhere.
Me: Fine.
R: blah blah blah blah
Me: You threw it away, didn't you?
R: I did NOT throw it away.
Me: Fine.

Me and my big honkin' horrible attitude manage to fit in the car with R and the kids and we go to the science center. Of course I don't believe that he hasn't thrown it away, it's nowhere to be found and there's absolutely no other explanation. That fine. Fine. Just fine. I'll be the bigger person and just let it go. One of the kids probably broke it and he's protecting them from my "money isn't made on trees" speech. Men. Harrumph.

We get home and R says, Hey - is this the picture you're looking for? And he points to the WALL, where the picture has been up since our first week here.

Oooooops. I apologize profusely, and R graciously forgives me (or at least says he does - I don't want to know the thoughts going through his head any more than he wanted to know they thoughts going through mine). I'm sure it's fine.