Had a really odd dream the other night. Not really a dream, though. Well, kinda sorta, I guess. If you're asleep and "thinking" then it is a dream, right?
Anyway, it was after Inam / Inom dumped the dirty pail of water - from washing the living room floor - into the sink which had dishes in it and my dish scrubbie. I "dreamed" that I raised my hand to him - as if to hit him - or maybe in my dream I did actually hit him. It isn't really clear. Subconsciously, does this mean that I want to hit him? No matter. What happened though is that either I raised my hand as if to strike him - or I did strike him - like I said, not really clear on that, and what happened afterward is that he raised his hand as if he was going to hit me back. Like that wouldn't be the biggest mistake he ever made in his life. Yep. And then I woke up.
First of all, let me say that I totally totally am against physical "discipline." Or physical - whatever you want to call it. I hope that I will never, ever so much as do more than raise my voice to my domestic help. And even then - when I do - it isn't nearly like I could raise my voice [ask my Son - when he was a teenager, my voice was "raised"]. I can count, with less than the fingers on one hand the number of times that I actually used physical "discipline" on him - my Son - with a swat across the butt after all other avenues had been exhausted - when he was a young child. Time outs? Yes. Many. Grounding when he got older? Oh, yeah. Taking "privileges" away? Um-hmm. One of those Mom's. And, even with my two Kids, now, do I raise my hand to them? The Boy? Never. I will admit to having given The Baby an occasional swat across her little butt with an open palm - hard? No. Enough to get her attention when telling her "no" fails. Again, I can count on one hand the number of times it has happened. And, I can also tell you on the three or four times it has happened there has been a "kitteh" involved. Her nemesis.
Back to Inam / Inom. So, in the dream I either raised my hand to slap him, or I actually did slap him. And he, in turn, raised his hand to me. I remember telling DH the next morning that I had had the dream and ended with saying, "I can tell you right now, that if he ever did raise his hand to me it would be the last thing he would ever do here." No. I am NOT going to hit him. But I am beginning to understand why it is that others resort to physical abuse with their domestic help. Inam pulled another bonehead move yesterday... It was classic. DH is not pleased. Nope. Not at all. Can't say that I blame him.
His favorite golf shirt. Sucked up in the vacuum. I can probably get it clean - but I won't be able to get the "snags" out of it.
So, let me get this straight. You were vacuuming the closet - like you always do - and tried to run it UNDER the clothes rack - even though you CAN clearly see that some of the shirts touch the floor - and you didn't for one second with just one of your brain cells think that you might have a problem?
You knocked the shirt off the hanger, it fell to the floor, and you kept vacuuming? What the heck IS wrong with you?!? Do you ever think? EVER!!? No. You don't. Are you even capable of thinking? I'm beginning to believe he is not. It probably isn't all his fault. But his clear lack of ability to fire up a half of a brain cell is precisely one of the reasons he got fired when he worked for me before - well, that and the fact that he is slower than a damn snail, but I was paying him on an hourly basis instead of on a salary basis - so that was my fault - of course it is going to take you an hour to wipe down the kitchen counter when someone is being paid by the hour. Duh! He isn't a whole lot "quicker" now that he is being paid a salary - but that isn't my fault. He could be making $3.00 and hour instead of $2.00 if he would just pick up the pace. Somehow I don't think that picking up the pace is going to effect in any way, shape or form whether or not he is using your head and THINKING while working. Truly some people cannot walk and chew gum at the same time. Someone in comments suggested the other day that while in the womb his mother was unable to give him the prenatal vitamins and nourishment that he needed. I am inclined to think that she is spot on in her assessment. But, again, not my fault. Perhaps instead of giving aid in the form of dollars to these third world countries - where it falls into the hands of their corrupt authorities and officials - we should instead just provide them with various forms of birth control. It would be the best thing we could do for them and go a long way in solving their problems and wiping out poverty and hunger and all that crap.
This morning Inam / Inom and I had words. Well, that's not quite what happened. It wasn't a "we" had words. I had words. I pointed the shirt out to him - the hangers - the way the shirts, many of them, go almost to the floor and told him that if he had knocked a shirt off a hanger that he should have TURNED THE VACUUM OFF and then hung up the shirt before continuing to vacuum. I said, "Do not ever vacuum the closets again. Not this one [DH's] and not mine. You don't think. You need to start trying to use your brain." What he heard: blah, blah, blah, blah. Idiot. The man is an idiot. And in that regard I do feel sorry for him.