Feel Good Moment #3652 - Some Husbands Never Change

My husband is amazing.

My husband is inspiring.

My husband is exciting.

My husband is enthusiastic.

But among my husband's finer qualities, there is no room for "remembering anything - ever".

It's just not what he does.

He loses his keys on a daily basis.

He loses his clothes.

He loses his shoes.

Last week, we couldn't find 1 single pair (out of no less than 15 pair) of his dress socks.

I on the other hand, forget very little.

I remember what I wore to church on Easter sunday last year.

I remember how to get home from a Phillies game, even though I have only been one time, IN THE DARK.

I still remember my voicemail code from college. 

And I have my credit card numbers memorized.

That, of course, is not to say that I am flawless.  Just to say that I have an excellent memory.

It works for us.  Most of the time.

Until a few months ago when something really started grating on my nerves.

You see, the light in the garage door opener on Techy's side of the garage burnt out several months ago.  (When I say several, I mean, like right after Little Man was born.  Yeah, like long enough that we could have almost fully cooked another baby...but that's beside the point.  Lazy us, I know, I know.)

And because it was burnt out, Techy left the door open so he could actually see his way to the steps.  (You know, the ones that are on their way to middle earth?  As seen here:

 Yeah, those!)

So in order to keep himself alive prevent maiming himself irreversibly while walking in our back door, he has taken to doing this.

Which would be perfectly fine except for this is how it stays.

And how it would stay.

Every day.

Forever.

If I didn't manically check every door and every window and every single opening in my house before I go to bed at night.

Don't laugh.

We already discussed how I watched way too many episodes of Rescue 911 as a child.

Besides.  I am married to Techy.  Nuff said.

With the cold weather coming on, this is going to start causing some real issues with how our house holds heat....

So...

I have nagged.

I have cried.

I have begged.

(I am seriously scarred by those episodes of Rescue 911.  SERIOUSLY)

All to no avail.

He just CANNOT remember to hit that little button when he comes in. 

(Last night, not only did he leave the garage door open, but he also left the trunk of his car open with his laptop sitting right there...thank God there was no manhunt going on!)

So how do I fix this problem?

I think I have an answer. 

And it's simpler than Gomer Pile.

Let's see if it takes you as long as it took me...

Happy Weekending!