Yes Dear, you were right…

Yesterday my hubby and I were floating in our pool. He got out for more iced tea and I asked him to refill my Yetti cup with some more ice water. He returned to the pool, plopped back into his float and handed me the cup. He then tells me I had the lid on wrong. WTF? How can it be on wrong? You snap the lid back on and voila… There ya go. He continues to explain that the opening needs to align with the logo stamp on the cup. What bullshit I said, and I scoffed at the notion. What the fuck? It’s not like you’re aligning the planets, or someone’s spine for Christ’s sake. I laughed at his OCD about having his shirt buttons lined up with his pants fly… “gig line”… to all you non military personnel… Or his compulsive line method… which is a methodical straight line to which he refers to as “Mr. Neatly”… But, I digress…

So, last night I filled my trusted Yetti with ice water. It’s great because the cup doesn’t sweat and whatever the beverage, it maintains the perfect temperature for hours. As I’m filling the tumbler, I laughed when I thought about our earlier conversation of linear correctness. I snapped on the lid and headed to bed. Somewhere on or around 0300 I reached for the Yetti tumbler in the dark. I raised the tumbler to my parched lips and then proceeded to dump ice cold, heart stopping water all over my forehead, down my face, between my boobs onto the pillow and mattress. I was surprised to find that my screeching, closely followed by my ruckus laughter didn’t awaken the beast from his slumber as I lay there shivering in a pool of ice Yetti water. Anyway, what lesson have we learned here “Grasshopper”?
… That there is a valid reason to the alignment of said lid and cup. Helen Keller might have taken advantage of this, and I now find it prudent to adopt this method before thrusting cold water on my stupid ass self. Had I taken the time to do that, then all I needed to do was to feel for the logo with my fingers and turn it in the direction aimed toward me.
Well played Ed… You diabolical bastard… πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ€£πŸ€£πŸ€£πŸ€£πŸ˜±πŸ˜

 

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