Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash
Some of my stories are ones I wrote a couple of years ago and some I have just written here in 2018. With that in mind, I’m just hucking them onto my Blog and trying to keep them in some sort of order, but I still want to provide some kind of context at the start of each one to give an idea of who the players are and what time-frame we are working in.
I began to notice that while Bru was left to his own devices in a wheelchair, he had begun evolving over the past couple of years to seize control of certain areas of his life. This sounds reasonable and actually quite encouraging for Bru himself and anyone close to him. What I didn’t know is that he was quietly turning to a life of crime and seemed to be enjoying it.
As things can get pretty quiet around here for me too, I am doing surveillance on this member of the household and reporting all findings to my Blog. Read on.
Crimewave #1 – Circa October 2018. It’s Monday morning and I am just starting a rotation of two dayshifts and two nightshifts. I’m up at 4am to get underway for work at 7am. I like a little time to relax before work with a coffee, maybe watch some TV, because I don’t like getting to work with ‘sleepy eyes’.
I get into the shower at 5am, as per schedule A. I’m in the ensuite bathroom at the back of the house. Tragically, Bruce can’t get his wheelchair in there and I have the whole room to myself at all times. I get the walk-in closet, the shower and two vanities. He uses the main bath in the middle of the house. It’s a struggle for me to have so much for myself, because sharing makes me feel good, especially if it’s candy or bathroom and closet space. I dab a tear.
I am in the shower and the water is the perfect temperature. It’s hot, and my muscles are easing out of their cat-like grace into a more relaxed pose.
I am in heaven. It’s nice. I do my best thinking in the shower. I plot. I scheme. I remember that we have a guy coming over today to replace the water meter at the request of the Town. Great stuff. Bru can handle that. We have food in the freezer for supper. Excellent. Should be a good day at work. I don’t even feel like calling in sick so I don’t have to go on Web MD and look for some disease to use when I call in. This is great because I can’t remember the one I used last time – I forgot to mark it. Today is a good day.
Everything went well and now Tuesday is here and I’m back in the shower. Water is not as hot. Odd. I have to turn it up more to get that sizzling sensation I like but what if Bru just flushed the toilet or ran some water and then it goes back to regular hot while I have it turned up? I’ll be scalded. I’d better leave it where I normally have it just in case.
Lousy shower. Warm-hot and I kept inching up on the temperature but it made me edgy.
Wednesday night. Shower now at 5pm. Not hot again. Hmmm. Inched up the hot water again but now the shower handle is way up to get me the heat I want. I’m nervous that it’s going to start shooting out the really hot stuff any second.
Thursday night – same thing.
Saturday morning. Days off since Friday morning. Excellent. Back in the shower. Thinking. What if a person showered with their laundry on and got everything done at once? Hmmm. They should put shampoo and conditioner in one bottle. Save a step. Why do women with glasses shave in the shower? Can’t see anyway and now there is water in my eyes, so can’t see because of that; then, let me pick up an instrument capable of opening a vein and scrape it across my skin. Who in the hell taught me that? I’m going to phone my mother when I get out of here and demand some answers.
Shower is lukewarm again. What the hell? Inch it up again for more hot water. Blah. Blah. Wait a minute. WAIT JUST A MINUTE. Bru is always complaining that the water is too hot. The meter guy came on Monday to change the meter BY THE HOT WATER TANK. Bru got him to turn down the temperature. Oh, that is exactly what happened. He talked the guy into turning the temperature down and didn’t tell me because he knows I didn’t want it turned down. I want a divorce.
I will catch him in the act. I scheme. I haven’t been watching crime reality shows for years for nothing. I am going to interview my chief suspect and I want to be ready.
Now, if I ask him if he messed with the temperature and he says OH, RIGHT, I FORGOT TO TELL YOU, then I will know that he meant no ill will. BUT, if I ask him and he says anything else, then I know he meant to keep it a secret because he is scared of me. Hah.
I get dressed, do my hair in my favorite Justin Bieber style with bitchin’ bangs from the 80’s and go out to confront my future ex-husband. I ask him and he says THE WATER WAS SCALDING. IT NEEDED TO BE TURNED DOWN.
AH-HA. Got him. Caught right in the act. I pointed my finger at him and told him that he was never going to tell me and he denied it. He said he forgot. I explained my theory and when confronted with the truth he did the only thing he could do – he backed his wheelchair away, gave me a slight wave of disgust and went to watch TV. I was right. I knew it. He knew it. I knew that he knew and he knew that I knew that he knew that I knew. Get it?
Crimewave #2 – I bought a package of 12 chocolate chip cookies for me and as a decoy, I bought Bru two packages of peanut butter cookies. They are his favorite and I thought he would be happy with them, thus leaving my cookies alone. I put mine in the freezer because I like them cold. I had 4. There were 8 left. I came home from work and they were gone. I asked him if he knew anything about my cookies. He said that yes, there were two left and he had eaten both of them.
I felt the betrayal before my body went into shock. First of all, there were at least 4 cookies left, maybe even 6. IF there were 2 cookies left, I wouldn’t have bothered putting them back; I would have just eaten them on the last cookie run. Really. I am not an amateur here. Who puts 2 cookies back in the freezer? I know this because when I hit the freezer for my next cookie hit, 2 cookies are not going to do it. I’d rather there be none. I would NEVER leave two. But he doesn’t know that about me, now does he? Here’s how I know how much men know about their wives. I see it every day at work:
Bru reporting his truck stolen (hypothetically):
..AND THE RIM ON PASSENGER REAR HAS A SLIGHT DENT; THERE IS A PAINT CHIP ON THE TAILGATE JUST TO THE LEFT ON THE HANDLE; THE BOX HAS A TOUCH OF RUST BY THE…
Bru reporting me missing;
WELL, SHE’S UM, FEMALE; SHE WAS BORN IN THE SUMMER, YEAH, THE SUMMER. JULY, I THINK. UM, HER HAIR IS BROWNISH BLONDIE BLACKISH WITH HIGHLIGHTS DOWN THE ROOTS, SHE HAS EYES, TWO AND GLASSES, YES, GLASSES.
See what I mean? Most husbands don’t know the finer details about their wives and that would include the cut-off amount of cookies that the wife would put back in the freezer. This is elementary stuff; to me. The Judge would have thrown the book at him for this one.
Crimewave #3 – Advil. I have some in my medication drawer. Bru keeps his own medication drawer and I get him anything he needs, within reason. I’m not doing time just because he wants a blunt. So I start to notice that the level of my Advil is dropping a bit and I ask him if he knows anything about it. NOPE he says. CAN’T SAY THAT I DO. Notice how he throws in the I DO part to trick me into fondly thinking of our wedding and then I would get all teary eyed and forget my investigation? Not today. So I mention that I understand he has a sore knee and what has he been treating it with, Hmmmm? He says he has been using Advil, from HIS drawer. I check his drawer and there is no Advil in there. He claims that he used the last of it and then may have burned the bottle so he can’t even show me that. It’s gone. There is nothing left, but there was some just before I came home.
Oh. My. God. I’m married to a meter touching, cookie stealing, pill pilfering monster. He lies like a wiener dog.
So now that I know he has set up his little syndicate here behind closed doors and he’s running it from his wheelchair, I’ll have to be more diligent in keeping an eye on things. I am away from home far too long when I am working and he has all the time in the world to go through my stuff! He’s probably been trying on my shoes too!
I thought about installing a nanny-cam but there are negatives when it comes to that. Sure, I get to see the stuff I’m looking for, but Sweet Onion Chutney, I may have to witness stuff that I don’t need to see and have been a better person for not knowing. Plus, there is stuff I’ve been doing that doesn’t need to be on camera either. Stuff Bru knows nothing about.
My motto is – If there are no police cars, ambulances or firetrucks in our driveway when I get home, then the day is a WIN. I’m just going to leave it at that and solve the crimes the old fashioned way.