It looked the same as it did before we went on vacation. It sat there hard and rusty. The only difference was it had dried up. I’m talking about the brillo pad atop our sink. Since it sat, unused for a week, it went from wet to dry.

Brillo pads, like goldfish, do not have a long life expectancy. One day you’re using a pad that’s new and soapy, the next it starts to rust. When holding it you notice the color has waned and the suds with it. You use it to the point that it’s rusted thru and thru and emits rust colored, dirty water; like the dirty water at your local gas station that you clean your windshield with. You use it even though it’s past its prime and has taken on an odor.

You use it because, damn it, why should you be the one to replace it and not your husband. I mean…why can’t he replace it, just once? Does he not see it? Of course he sees it! The man’s not blind! He’s the one who does the dinner dishes! Doesn’t it bother him? Oh, right. I forgot, if underwear on the floor doesn’t bother him, why would an old brillo pad? So, I leave it be, because he leaves it be. We play a subtle game of avoidance. We’re lucky this is a brillo pad we’re talking about and not one of out kids as we’d be carted off to jail for child neglect.  I’ll admit our behavior is childish.

When we returned home from vacation I decided to replace the old with the new. That night, after dinner, when he’s doing the dishes, he picks up the new pad and under his breath, I hear him say, “It’s about time.” It’s about time? Let’s just see how long I’ll let it go next time. Two can play this game… and nobody’s better at playing childish games than me and my husband.

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