The broiler pan...

...is in the kitchen sink. It has been there since Thursday when I took it off of the stove where it was placed by Zach on Tuesday after the salmon finished cooking. It's a little game we're playing. At least I'm making it a game. It's very possible that Zach has just not noticed it there, even though he visits the kitchen sink several times a day, because he's a guy and that is just a guy thing to do. It's sort of our deal that I cook the Salmon if Zach does the handling part, and the cleaning part which includes scraping the dead skin off of the pan. Uuuhhh...my vegetarian stomach is churning at the thought. Well he was busy with all the tearing down of the back porch this past week, so I guess he never got around to it. I have to give him credit though because lately he's been very helpful around the house, and quite pleasant, to boot. He's been running again, everyday. And it's always been clear to me that he is a very different person depending on whether he's running or not.

I've tried this kind of thing before and it always ends with me breaking down and moving whatever offending object it is that's been ignored for 5 days in a row. I think one time it was a glass that Zach had been using. He left it somewhere around the house and ordinarily I would just pick it up without thinking about it, but sometimes I catch myself in the act of one of those insanely mundane home-maker tasks, and I wonder if I didn't do these things, who would? So I decide to test it out, and the answer I come up with is always the same: No one. Each day that goes by, I figure the odds of the glass being moved by someone other than me lessen. Usually the suspense is too much for me and by day 3 or so I start to crack, "Are you going to move that freaking glass?" I ask through gritted teeth. By day 5 I am going a little crazy and that's when I crack. So I haven't made it beyond 5 days yet. But this time will be different.

Did you ever see that episode of Everybody Loves Raymond where Ray and Debra have a suitcase sitting at the bottom of their staircase all week long, which neither one of them will take up the stairs. I think they'd just gotten back from a vacation or something. In the end there's a big to-do about it, Ray's father is involved, and I believe someone ended up with a bad injury? That episode was just so funny to us because that's what our lives are like, only we don't have the laugh track. Infact, we've always said that show is the one that best exemplifies what our relationship is like.

It's already been almost 6 days, and I've really only had the occasional urge to soak the pan so that the skin doesn't become permanently affixed to the surface. There hasn't been a word spoken about it, so that when Zach finally does give in, I can feel satisfied in the knowledge that my nagging had no part in his defeat; that by shear will alone, I patiently won the battle. And I will reign over this kingdom until the next time someone leaves their sweaty running clothes on the bed.

Oh and go here. I meant to post about this when I first saw it last Monday, but am only now getting around to it so you have to go to the November 27th entry, underneath Carly Patterson. That's me. Cool!