Nag THIS

Several days ago as I silently zipped the waffle bag in the freezer after Husband left it gaping open for the 217th time, inviting freezer burn into our children’s wholesome breakfast each morning, I took a big breath, counted to 40 and calmly asked Husband if he wouldn’t mind trying to remember to close the ziploc bag before putting it back in the freezer.  (And, frankly, try to remember to put it back in the freezer.)  I didn’t even MENTION how this was very very very far from the first time he had left it open.  I was proud of myself for being such an adult about it.

The next day, I opened the freezer and the waffle bag was left open.  I zipped it shut.  I very gently asked him again if he wouldn’t mind trying to remember to close the waffle bag.  Again, I acted like a rational person.  He was all, oh yeah, sorry about that.  

A couple days later, there it was, lying open in the freezer, as if saying, Hey-fuck you lady.  I closed it, aggressively, wondering why this task seemed so out of reach for my Husband, who is a grown man.  

The other night we got home from a day trip from San Diego and I opened the freezer for my nightly intake of chocolate chips and there it was.  Open.  Again.  I muttered loudly enough for Husband to hear I was speaking but not necessarily loud enough for him to know what I was saying.  What are you mumbling about, he asked.  I said COULD YOU PLEASE CLOSE THE FREAKING WAFFLE BAG?  WHY IS IT SO DAMN HARD? (It might surprise you, but I actually said “freaking” instead of my favored F word.  It seemed a tad less harsh.)  He was all, what’s the big deal?  Who cares if it’s closed?  

One:CLEARLY I FUCKING CARE BECAUSE I HAVE ASKED YOU 17 TIMES TO CLOSE IT.

Two: Our children care.  They may not express it, but I’m pretty sure they don’t like the taste of freezer burn.  

Three: Why is it hard?  When you open something, doesn’t it come naturally to close it when finished?  Wait...I forget who I’m talking about-Species that Doesn’t Close Things, including cupboards, drawers, doors and zippers.

My point, and I may or may not have one depending on whether or not you have a penis, is that women, wives, moms, girlfriends, those of the female species, do not come by nagging naturally.  We come by it because WE ARE FORCED INTO IT.  

Please.  Please close the waffle bag.  Even if it contains french toast, I will still call it the waffle bag and I will still want you to close it.  Our kids deserve that fresh, homemade, non-freezer burn breakfast each morning.  Or they at least deserve the opportunity to take one bite and declare themselves finished as I mumble something about starving children in Africa.  For the 258th time.