I have a horrific memory. Not only do I ask Kris "have you seen my phone?" 678 times a day, "rinse" my hair at least three times because I can't remember if I washed the conditioner out, and always, always forget my lunch at home in the fridge, but I have a terrible time recalling anything (from the significant to the simple) that happened more than a year ago. Want to know what I dressed up for as a kid on Halloween? Or who taught me French in grade 6? I literally have no idea. Oh don't feel bad. If I just stopped for more than three seconds, took some deep breaths, laid down on the couch and really put my mind to it - I could probably sketch together something that resembles an early memory or at least recall what I ate for breakfast yesterday.
Anyway, my point? I have a horrific memory. Kris, on the other hand, is the kind of guy who sees someone once and remembers them forever. Oh, the guy in the new commercial for antacids? He was also in a commercial for cranberry juice and starred as an extra on an episode of Law & Order in 1994. Kris is always telling me this kind of stuff. His amazing memory and my horrific memory make a lovely pair. I'll be all, "Dude, this one time I went to the zoo and walked all the way to the Canada section to see a moose because I'd never seen one before and it was asleep so I STILL have not seen a moose." And then he'll be like, "DUDE. I know. I was with you. We'd been dating for four years at this point. MY WHOLE FAMILY WAS THERE." Me: *shrug* "Weird, I don't remember that. Have you seen my phone?"
Are you still with me? Here's the summary: Me = horrific memory, Kris = amazing memory.
Kale clearly takes after Kris on this one.
One day this summer I saw a giant, five foot cardboard playhouse and for some (INSANE) reason I thought it would be a good idea to bring the giant, five foot cardboard house home for Kale. Kale (and the cat) LOVED IT. So for the next two months we had a giant, five foot cardboard house in our dining room. Fun, no? No. It wasn't. Our dining room is not nearly big enough to house a five foot cardboard house. Slowly the cardboard house began to tumble as Kale and the cat continually threw themselves into its weak, cardboard walls. One day Kris and I took a deep breath and moved the giant five food cardboard house to the basement - fully expecting a tantrum to ensue. But there was nothing. A couple weeks later, we tore it down completely. Kale didn't say a word. This was at least two months ago. Kale has not mentioned it at all.
A couple nights ago we were eating dinner and Kale was running laps and he suddenly froze, furrowed his brow, and, clearly in a state of panic, started looking for something. And then he said "Where's my white house? I want my white house."
Remember, me = horrific memory.
Just as I was about to lean down and say, "Kale, honey, you're confused. This is Canada. We have a Prime Minister and 24 Sussex Drive. Besides, you have to get elected first - you can't just declare yourself POTUS and move into the White House." - Kris stopped me and said "The cardboard house. He wants the cardboard house."
Or how about the time Kale was being extra silly as we were trying to get ready for the library and I was running on my last bit of patience and it was at the moment when I thought "I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE" that a rubber boot sailed from Kale's hand and landed smack on the side of my head. It was then that I declared "That's it! We're not going to the library!" And we didn't.
But then on the weekend we were getting ready to go to the library and Kale walked over to me and said "We're going to the library now because I didn't hit mama in the head with my rubber dinosaur boot." And again, I'm all "What is this kid talking about???? We have to get him off Dora." And then Kris is there reminding me of the boot incident and I gently touch my still bruised temple and some version of the memory seems to appear behind a thick fog.
And yes, we're coming to the end of this post and I'd love to wrap it up with a purpose or a lesson or something, but (terrible joke coming right up.......) - I can't remember why I even started writing this.