A Story About Life

This may start out sounding like a brag post, but hang in there, it's not.

I have a great memory. Really, it's something I pride myself on. I will not go into the details of how I work on it, let's just say it has something to do with car license plates and being an eye witness in the case of an emergency.

Bryce has a love/hate relationship with my impeccable memory. He loves it when I can remember where he put something months ago, he hates it when I can recount exactly what happened seven years ago during an argument where he came out losing.

I like pencils. The common, #2 wood and graphite with pink eraser pencil. They're my favorite. I have a large, large stash of them, just in case. Just in case of what, I have no idea. I like them best when they're freshly sharpened.

So....in middle school and high school I had a little red, cheap, plastic pencil sharpener. Run-of-the-mill dollar store variety. I remember distinctly having it on my desk during tests, putting it into my back pack, using it for homework, etc. Mind you, very clear, visual memories.

The other day. Well, not really the other day, more like back in the day when my life was normal and I lived in my own house with my husband and children and I had a closet for my clothes. Anyway, ONE day, I was in the bedroom and I found my red pencil sharpener. I have, since having children, moved the red pencil sharpener to a common use area. It had disappeared. I found it among Bryce's things. Horror, of horrors.

I confronted Bryce. He gave me some song and dance about it being his and how he had it in college, blah, blah, blah. He probably did have it in college when he secretly confiscated it from my stuff after we got married.

Anyway, I took it and put it back where it belonged. And he took it back, so on and so forth. We have the great pencil sharpener discussion yearly.

So how does one resolve such a situation and save a marriage? Bryce will be getting a pencil sharpener for Christmas. It will not be red.

Katie