The legendary Shoeless Todd

Posted by Todd Blankenship

Women own a lot of shoes. Lordy, does Tina ever have a butt-load! She has at any given moment a minimum of two pairs at every entrance, as well as a dozen in the bedroom closet, and a box-full in the basement. When I met Tina, I owned three pairs of shoes. Dress shoes, gym shoes, outdoor shoes. Somehow, along the way, I’ve managed to accumulate shoe pair after shoe pair, which has grown into a mighty collection the likes of which would impress a centipede. In all honesty, I’m a little embarassed by my steadily growing mountain of shoes. I used to be the kind of guy that didn’t need shoes half the time. And now, due to some sort of social evolution, most definitely brought on by my environment (aka Tina), I own a billion shoes!

Oh the good ol’ days when I was but a young bachelor with simple podiatry needs… and when shoe storage space was limited to a single closet already stuffed to the brink of cataclysm. Life was simpler then. A man could survive on three pairs of shoes, one of which was limited to a twice-yearly wear at a cousin’s wedding or Christmas. Comments on your appearance were fairly non-existent. Rarely would you hear the call of the elusive North-American spotted mule as it bellows: “Those don’t match that type of jean wash!” or its distant cousin, the hightop rouching crane as it plays out its mating song in a beautiful pantomime: “You can’t wear socks with those!”

Nobody Puts Tina in the Corner!

Posted by Tina Blankenship

Todd and I have reached that time in our lives when all of our friends and family members are getting married. Now anyone who’s lived in Manitoba knows that with planning a wedding comes planning a social, and at each of these events there is always music and dancing!

I love to dance. I am not a great dancer, but I have good rhythm and a few decent moves that I like to bust out from time to time. I enjoy being out on the dance floor having a good time tripping the light fantastic with loved ones. It’s fun! Sadly, occasions for me to cut loose and kick off my Sunday shoes are few and far between. This is why I try my hardest to coax Todd out onto the dance floor at every social and wedding we attend.

The more things change, the more laundry they have to do

Posted by Todd Blankenship

I moved the tv. It used to be on the main floor, but due to recent party-proofing, I have relocated it to a quaint little den on the second floor. As I strained myself moving it up the stairs, all the while accidentally squeezing out a short airy toot, Tina worried. She could not help but pipe in on this sudden television migration and chuckle at my smelly opus. “You’re going to put it back tomorrow though, right?” I told her it wasn’t that easy to take back gas. “I mean the tv!!!” she shrieked. I responded with indistinguishable words that mostly resembled the grunt of a fully aroused hog. I honestly had zero intention of moving it back without firstly putting together a solid defense case and presenting it to Judge Pepe, the Mexican gitarra-playing marionette that looks upon most of our disagremeents yet strangely never deliberates. It took all of one evening of shows and movies to convince Tina that the new spot for the tv was definitely the better spot. After a rousing game of flatscreen tennis, the final score is Todd 1 : Tina nada.

Remote “Control”

Posted by Tina Blankenship

Hello again! Now some of you may be asking yourselves why I didn’t formulate a response to Todd’s most recent post about chores wherein he implies that I am both a bear AND a mafia princess who has intimate knowledge of the proper procedures to follow when disposing of bodies. My answer to your very valid question, dear readers, is this: There was a reaction on my part. I sat down with Todd and had a very calm, growl-free conversation after which Todd decided of his own volition to apologize and explain his point of view. He has also promised to make it up to me by taking me out on the town! Long story short, I have handled the problem internally, and I thank you for your concern. Now on to my actual post!

It is a war that has been waged in living rooms all over the word. It is a battle that has been on going since its invention in 1956. Wherever two or more people share a domicile, you will undoubtedly come across this age old debate: Who rules the remote?

As Todd has previously stated, we spend a good part of our down time together watching tv. Fortunately for us, we like a lot of the same shows, so the issue of who runs the remote is seldom brought up. There are of course a few exceptions to our harmonious arrangement, ie televised sporting events, sports update shows, movies with scantily clad ladies and gratuitous explosions but no real plot line, cooking shows, bridal themed shows, shows with “Cake” anywhere in the title and tear jerking chick flicks.

The odd time that one of us is watching something that the other doesn’t agree with, we usually try and find a compromise, where we land on something that we both would enjoy watching. However, sometimes, no matter how hard we try, there is just no common ground to be found. In those instances, remote “control” reverts to he or she who physically possesses the remote. On these rare occasions, there is likely to be some complaints from the powerless party.
“Are you ACTUALLY watching this?!” “Do we have to watch cricket? You don’t even LIKE cricket!” “When are you EVER going to cook duck à l’orange!?” “This movie is stupid, and YOU’RE stupid for liking it!” Etc. Most of these outbursts can be quelled by the uttering of three simple words. “It’s almost over.” These words seem to have a calming effect on the un-remoted population. Unfortunately there are still certain circumstances where this magical phrase cannot appease the remote-less individual. (Like when the movie/show’s opening credits are still playing.) More often than not, when griping fails, the non-remote controller will let out one last disapproving grumble, heave a sigh of concession, and leave the room in search of other pursuits… Or to regroup before the next boob tube blitzkrieg.

I must admit that I have the power of remote most frequently in our home. I do try to be courteous, and watch my “lady” programs and movies when Todd is not around. Todd is equally as considerate when he is the one in control, because let’s face it, it’s more fun watching something that you both enjoy, so that you can shout, gasp, cringe and laugh together.

Who commands the remote in your home? Do you have set blocks of time where you and your partner are each free to surf the channels as you please? Is there another way of sharing tv time that we haven’t thought of yet? Inquiring minds want to know.

Until next time!

Tina

Blue jobs and pink jobs

Posted by Todd Blankenship

Household chores. I know what you’re thinking. It’s a tricky topic to address without somehow getting yourself into trouble. How does one opine on this, yet avoid poking the bear? For those not quite caught up yet, Tina is the bear in this scenario. She growls, enjoys honey, and I’ve even witnessed some light hibernation from time to time. Please note that it’s taking all of my might to avoid jokes on furriness and pooping in the woods. Furthermore, I am very aware of the ironic predicament I’ve suddenly imposed on myself in regards to calling Tina a bear and insinuating that I would like to avoid her womanly wrath. On that note, permit me to commence by regaling you with a tale of a bizarre nature; one that first and foremost will deviate Tina’s attention from the fact that I clumsily and foolishly inserted her into the ursus nomenclature, and secondly, a story uncommon in household chores that is screaming to be discussed. Also, if anyone notices a bear roaming the area, kindly give me a heads up, k?