My husband is a ditz.

I would just like to proudly announce to the world that my husband is a ditz, a very adorable and lovable ditz that I wouldn't change for the world, but a ditz, nonetheless. He came home on a break between calls today and proved it.

I was sitting at the computer trying to take care of some overdue paperwork and he's yammering on to me about everything that has and hasn't happened today. As he well knows, I hate it when he does this. I don't multitask well, especially if paperwork or hazardous materials are involved. It takes me twice as long to get the work done with twice the number of mistakes and I don't really hear a single thing he says. It just gets me cranky. I usually stop what I'm doing and just let him talk, but this time he assured me that he's not saying anything important and since the paperwork needs to get done, I should just ignore him and continue with what I’m doing. However, he yammers on anyway.

So he proceeds to the kitchen, which is right next to the office set-up that I'm working in, and opens the refrigerator and every cabinet in the kitchen about five times, each. Might I add he is still talking to me, and he multitasks about as well as I do. I keep to my task and do my best to ignore him. So all I hear is,"blah, blah, blah" and "bang, bang, squeak" as he bops around behind me. Then all of a sudden he asks, "Dear, where's my sandwich?"

This gets my attention. Now, how would I have any idea where is sandwich is? It's not like I've moved from my seat and run off with it. I'm doing my very best to pretend he's not there, so I haven’t been watching him. I stop. I turn around in my chair. I look at him and wait for him to realize just how ridiculous a question this is. He starts doing his head-scratching thing and spins around in a circle a couple times to see if his sandwich will miraculously appear. It doesn't. As I'm stifling my giggles, he looks at me completely perplexed. If questioned at that moment in time, he would probably swear that aliens had abducted his sandwich.

So I kindly ask him if he would like me help him find his sandwich. This seems to jar him back into the world of reality. He looks in the fridge, but doesn't find it. He then looks in the sink, the dishwasher, and the pantry all without any luck. He seems to have this task in hand so I turn back to my paperwork. I hear the squeak of our cabinets and then his voice saying, "Never mind!" as he takes a plate with his sandwich on it off the top of our stack of clean plates in the cabinet and marches off to the table with it wearing a foolish grin.

After he's left, I can't help but make my rounds in the kitchen just to be sure that he hasn't done anything like leave the deli meat in the freezer, again. Might I add that this man is a near genius; and while I really hope that he doesn't read this, I’m posting it anyway, because I find him doing things like this to be incredibly amusing.