Surely You Must Understand How Much This Pains Me...

Hick has taken to coming home early. His Old Buddy has not been feeling like working lately, so the Double Hovel is on the back burner, and Hick is reorganizing his Freight Container Garage. Dang it! The purpose of the Double Hovel purchase was to give Hick something to do!

Anyhoo... he now has developed a habit of traipsing through the kitchen before I leave for town, handing me the mail and receipts instead of laying them in their designated places on the kitchen counter. So he catches me in the middle of something on HIPPIE, rather than letting me peruse the mail and receipts when I'm focused on them. Nevermind that with the holidays, some of the bills have been arriving a week or more later than usual. So that's what I'm focused on.

Thursday at noon:30, Hick handed me a bank statement and savings & loan statement, then said:

"Didn't I get something from the county assesor yesterday? For my Storage Unit Store?"

"No. Why would you get THAT? We got the one I've been waiting for, for our personal property."

"No. That was a couple days ago."

"I think I would remember if we got it! I've been telling you I was worried it was lost in the mail. We usually have it before now. So I was happy yesterday when it finally arrived. I specifically noticed that it looked different, because the county assessor used to be my old next-door neighbor from when we lived in the townhouses, but now it's a man."

"The one yesterday was for me! I gave you the other one before that!"

"You did not! You need to go look in your truck, or wherever you put the mail before you give it to me. I only have the one. From yesterday. See?" I held up the envelope. "I slit it open, but I haven't looked at it yet. I was busy paying the six-month car insurances, and the SilverRedO payment, and the Lowe's bill."

"SEE? It says right here! 'Hick's Storage Unit Store!' This is for my business. I already gave you the one for our stuff." Hick put it on his notebook where he keeps his records.

"You did NOT! I would remember! I am so tired of trying to deal with you! I have my system. If you gave it to me, I would have put it in my purse, and then when I went to town, set it RIGHT HERE on the table. That's where the important things go that I have to look at soon."

"I gave it to you! I don't know what you did with it, but I KNOW I gave it to you!"

"You didn't! I guess you'll have to go down to the courthouse and tell them we need another one! We have until March 1st to return it!"

Hick stomped off, and I finished up an email to my insurance rep that I'd been in the middle of when Hick waltzed in and interrupted me. As soon as I hit SEND, I picked up the four envelopes on the table: the Lowe's statement showing a small Double Hovel expenditure, a credit union envelope containing receipts from deposits of The Pony's house payments, a retirement benefits statement from Hick's long-ago employer, and

THE 2023 ASSEMENT FORM!

Well, crap! Looks like it was there all along...

"Hey! Where are you?"

"In my recliner!" Said Hick, quite gruffly with his nose out of joint.

"Guess what I just found!"

Silence. No response. So I didn't elaborate. I closed out HIPPIE and got my purse ready for town, then got up to take my shower. Upon passing through the living room, I noticed that Hick was missing. Not in his recliner. Not in either bathroom. Not in bed. The light was still off in the basement. So I figured he must have gone to his Freight Container Garage. Although both A-Cad and SilverRedO were parked outside when I left, and the Gator was under the carport as well. Huh.

After a particularly taxing town trip, I called Hick on the way home.

"Where are you now?"

"Sitting in my recliner." Still petulant.

"I'm on my way home."

"That assessment form is right beside your computer." Accusingly.

"I know! I put it there. I hollered and told you, 'Guess what I just found,' but you didn't answer. And then you pulled a disappearing act before I could tell you 'I'm sorry, you were right.'"

"I was downstairs in your recliner."

"With the lights off!"

"So I WAS right."

"Yeah. That's what I said. I wanted to tell you 'I'm sorry, you were right.' And by that, I truly mean, 'I'm SORRY you were right!' You don't know how sorry I am! I absolutely hate it when you're right!"

Heh, heh. That got a chuckle from the grump. And as soon as I pulled into the garage, he came out to carry in groceries.