Guess Who’s Sleeping in the Poop Pen Tonight…

66cd5af1c9f72a645f24a970a61247fa

My husband, the Long Suffering Cap’n Firepants, and I (the Just as Long and Sometimes Even More Suffering Mrs. Cap’n Firepants) had a bit of a tiff last night.  I won’t go into details.  Suffice it to say that he thought there was a miscommunication even though I had clearly communicated, and that him apologizing for misunderstanding my communication is not really an apology because it obviously implies that I was at fault for not clearly communicating.  And I think we can all agree that I am a fabulous communicator.

But I am not a very good prognosticator.

I was at school today, and the secretary called on the intercom to see if I could send someone to the office to pick up a package.  I didn’t have students at the time, so I told her I would send one as soon as they returned.

Of course, I forgot.

“Mrs. Cap’n Firepants, can you send someone down to the office now?”  Obviously the secretary really wanted me to come get that package.  I wondered what it was.  I hadn’t ordered anything.  Then I realized what was happening.

“Cap’n Firepants sent me flowers to apologize, and the secretary is really eager to brighten my day,” I thought.  “He is so forgiven!”  I immediately drafted a student to pick up my special delivery.  I couldn’t wait to see my surprise.

The door opened.

“What is it?” I asked expectantly, as soon as the student entered.  I couldn’t see what was in his hands because I was on the other side of the room.

“Balls,” he said.

I apparently couldn’t hear what he said because I was on the other side of the room.

“Huh?”

“Eyeballs,” he said, as he approached me.

And then I remembered.  I had ordered something.  Sheep eyeballs for my 3rd graders to dissect.

The students cheered with excitement as I dejectedly looked down at the jar that the secretary had been so eager to get off her desk.  The jar of a dozen eyeballs that was supposed to be a dozen roses.  The jar of eyeballs that I forgot I had ordered – my forgetfulness obviously due to the trauma of being falsely accused of mis-communicating.  The jar of eyeballs that used to belong to sheep that had now become the worst Un-apology ever.

He is so not forgiven.

Advertisements

Posted on March 27, 2013, in Cap'n Firepants, Family, Humor, Marriage, Relationships and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 30 Comments.

  1. Peeing myself down here… karma!!!

  2. On the plus side, sheep eyeball dissection in Grade 3!

  3. You might want to keep a couple of sheep’s eyes for Cap’n Firepants in case he suffers from having a ‘man look’ as well as misunderstanding.

  4. Sheesh.
    Everyone knows sincerity is best expressed with sheep spleens.

  5. Oh my. You are tough!

  6. He’s supposed to send you a whole sheep! So much better than roses.

  7. Haha ! Awe poor Captain Firepants. But wow sheep eyeball dissection in grade 3? May I reverse my grades??

  8. I feel the same way about most (ok, all) of my marital disagreements. 🙂 I am always open to groveling.

  9. Perhaps the cosmos are sending a message to help you see more clearly.

  10. HAHAHAHA!!!! Hilarious! Still, you should both move on and not be mad. Or you can take one of those eyeballs and put it on his pillow with a note : “I am watching you” or “SEE how wrong you were?”

  11. You sound a lot like my typist! You sure you weren’t seperated at birth?!

  12. The fact that you’re dissecting eyeballs should have Cap’n F on his best behavior 24/7. I mean, you’re DISSECTING. EYEBALLS.

  13. omg. i am laughing too hard to appropriately comment. so, thank you?

  14. Not a good thing to forget is coming in the mail, eh?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: