The Anti-Boyscout

OK so right up front I’ll admit to being petty with this one. But hey, it still fits firmly into the ‘drives me crazy’ category. So, if it helps, go back and review the bit about how this blog = therapy and then read away. Dollars to donuts you’ll only disagree if  a)you live in a warm climate b) you’re smart enough to never let the husband drive or c) you married Mr. Perfect and if in fact c is your answer, skip to the next blog right now because nothing else I ever write will make any sense. 

We do not live in a warm climate, not even a slightly hospitable one. So, like most normal people, by the end of January, I’m getting even crankier than normal, meaning that even the tiniest little annoying thing hubby does can seem monumental. With this in mind, it’s no surprise that my favorite winter pet peeve popped up yet again this weekend.

Why, I ask you, WHY can he NOT get the keys out of his pocket BEFORE we get to the car? It’s 4 million degrees below zero and that extra 30 seconds as he rummages from pocket to pocket to find the keys, haul them out and finally open all the doors, not just the drivers side, seems like an eternity, certainly worth frostbite on at least three fingers and one toe. Is it just boys’ inability to multi-task? Walking and getting your keys out all at the same time is just too complicated?  Flashbacks to 1975 when no one locked their car? Good Lord man, we live in modern times and you could have unlocked that car from halfway across the parking lot with the press of one little button — so why am I standing here freezing??  I have a sneaky suspicion that it’s all the same missing chip. Let’s face it, why else would they need to teach that “be prepared” motto when they’re little boys? It simply doesn’t come to them naturally. How often have you watched the guy ahead of you in the supposedly speedy 8 items or less line wait patiently until the check out person tallies and announces his total and then, and only then, does he start reaching for cash or weighing which credit card to use. Is it that much of a stretch to think a minute ahead? I’m all for living in the moment, but when I can see my breath and feel icicles on my eyelashes, you had better think like a boyscout and get the damn door open NOW!

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