A couple of Saturdays ago I got up and wanted to wear my thin light gray sweats to the gym. They were dirty and since I wasn't going to the gym for a couple of hours, I decided to wash a load of clothes so I could wear them.
When I took the lid off the hamper I noticed this:
Now I know you're saying to yourself...what in the world is she showing us a picture of a damn towel for? Well...lemme get to that.
The towels at 13700 are color coded per bathroom.
In our bathroom, they are white.
In ST's bathroom, they are sienna.In the half bath, they are deep red.
And...in the basement guest bathroom, they are golden yellow.
Notice the towel up yonder...it is NEITHER of those colors. It's like a mauve/plum something. It's also frayed. Towels in my home that are frayed are in the laundry room and most of those are white. Either because they used to be white or I've bleached the hell out of them until they're almost white.
And yet...it was in OUR hamper.
And I'd never, ever, EVER seen this damn towel.
The first thing that came to my mind was, and I quote,
And I know there are only two people who use OUR hamper. That would be The Robinator and I.
The Robinator was on the golf course and he wasn't scheduled to return home until 12:30 pm. I washed the towel and folded it neatly and went about my morning.
When Robby came home we were talking and whatnot because, to be honest, I forgot about the towel. After lunch, I followed him upstairs when he headed up to have a shower and then...I saw and subsequently remembered that damn towel.
Me: (holding towel) Where'd this towel come from?
Robby: That's one of the towels my mom lets my dad and I use when we go play golf. It was in my bag when I pulled it out this morning.
And he kept disrobing for the shower and looked me in the eye as he told me this.
My response? Oh.
And that was that.
Now let's just imagine how the conversation would have gone had it taken the following turn of events:
Me: (holding towel) Where'd this towel come from?
Robby: That's your towel.
Me: Excuse me?
Robby: That's your towel.
Me: MF WHAT? THAT IS NOT MY GOTDAMN TOWEL! DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW WHAT THE FUG MY TOWELS LOOK LIKE IN THIS MF? I WASH EVERY GOT.DAMN TOWEL, FOLD THEM AND HAVE PUT MOST OF THEM AWAY BEFORE. HELL! I BOUGHT EVERY GOT.DAMN TOWEL IN THIS MF SO DON'T TRY AND TELL ME THIS IS MY GOT.DAMN.MF'ING.TOWEL! NOW IMMA ASK ONE MO GIN...WHERE THE FUCK DID THIS MF'ING TOWEL COME FROM?
As I was yelling...I'd have already been looking around our bedroom to see what the hell I was going to throw at his azz first had he tried to come at me bout some gotdamn it's my towel. Since I was standing by the door...there is a huge planter there and well...we already know about me and planters from my past right? Right.
I can't imagine Robby trying to jump crazy with me about some damn towel that I know isn't our towel. I couldn't imagine Robby attempting to leave our home mad about some got.damn towel and I DAMN SURE CAN'T IMAGINE HIM LEAVING, NOT TELLING ME WHERE HE'S GOING AND NOT COMING HOME THAT NIGHT...
ABOUT SOME GOT.DAMN.TOWEL.
I WISH A MF WOULD.
When folks are in my inbox with problems I never, ever, EVER answer them myself. There have maybe been three times when I have and only in private via email and ONLY if it's someone that I COMPLETELY respected and knew would respect my opinion because we "knew" each other. On matters such as the one in my inbox earlier...no way in hell would I have given her advice because I, Monica Mingo, am not qualified to GIVE advice on situations such as this. Why? I have issues and they are deep and they are REAL.
Yes...I have a good marriage. Yes I love my husband dearly and he loves me dearly as well. We have a VERY good marriage. The key? Communication. Even though our form of communication would shock most gentile folks...it is what it is to us. We can yell and cuss one minute and the next we're trying to figure out what we're going to the movies to see. We can do that because we KNOW each other. Well. Robby knows that I will whup a mofo's azz for touching a hair on his head and I know he'll fall out on the floor dying laughing at some fool trying to go there with me.
We trust each other implicitly and if we didn't...we wouldn't be the Monnie and Robby you've come to know. There is NOTHING fake about us. We put it OUT.THERE. There have been family and framily here at 13700 and a MF or two or twelve have popped off and folks know to keep it moving. That's just Monnie and Robby and Monnie and Robby doesn't work for anyone but MONNIE AND ROBBY.
It broke my heart to read the young lady's email this morning because I know she's hurting BAD. She and her husband are not communicating with with each other and they need to figure that out QUICKLY. My husband and I figured out our communication long ago and it works for us. We hold nothing back and are honest with our feelings all the time because we know of no other way to be.
I hope she is finding peace in a difficult situation tonight and I hope they found the courage to TALK to each other. If you can't talk to your spouse...shit...you're doomed.
I am Monica Mingo and I am an azz. Thankfully, my husband loves me. And I love him. Cuz he's an azz too.
Love,
Monnie & Robby...AKA...13700
