Drip, drip, drip

I'm having huge struggles staying in the right frame of mind today.  This story is not about abuse, abandonment, joblessness, over-spending, etc., but it's like torture in that there have been thousands of these little stories in my long marriage and they just keep piling up (on?).  I just can't sweep them away fast enough to keep a loving frame of mind.

I've been out of bed for 10 minutes, he's 5 minutes from leaving for work. Him: "I wish I had a shirt that wasn't wrinkled."  Me:  Wear a different one.  Him:  I couldn't find any.  (Since I do all the laundry, I immediately leap to a bad place and start wondering what happened... I'm pretty sure I did laundry 6 days ago, and I'm pretty sure he has at least a dozen shirts suitable to the occasion, and I'm pretty sure at least half of them were hung up unwrinkled.  But for some strange reason I trust him, and don't look in the closet!)  Me:  When do you have to leave.  Him:  About a minute?  (why is this a question -- doesn't he know?).  Me:  It definitely needs to be ironed.  Him:  (unbuttoning) Could you iron it for me while I take stuff out to the car?  Me:  Okay.  (I'm still wondering where the hell all the clean shirts went.  Did he wear them and change at work?  I once found 3 pairs of pants, 4 shirts, a suit coat and two pairs of shoes in his vehicle.)  So I'm ironing, I hear doors banging, he turns up just as the shirt is finished.  He puts it on, hugs me, says thanks (we're still fine at this point, except I'm mystified about the missing wardrobe.)  Then... then.... why? why? why? he says to me, standing there in my jammies and early morning dishelvedness, "Your hair could really use some work this morning."  Boom.  Is this Stooge #2 -- Deflect?  Did he feel bad that he left finding something to wear to the last minute?  Does he know the fact that he has no clean, unwrinkled shirt might somehow be his responsibility?  Does he feel bad that I helped him out by willingly ironing his shirt?  So he has to zing me, somehow, some way? 

As I said, this is not a tale of abuse, abandonment, joblessness, overspending........ and reciting it sounds like just so much whining.  Poor me.  It's just more drip, drip, drip.  Guess I better go get started on the laundry.  And I found five good shirts in the closet.  Now who's the idiot.