Screw you shelf paper. Seriously. Screw you…
Do they even still sell shelf paper? And who is buying it? I had this memory pop out of nowhere recently. It was one of those cringe worthy memories. Of me. And shelf paper…
My boys were little at the time. I was a stay at home mom of two busy toddlers and also often babysat my 4 year old nephew. My life was a constant battle of diapers, sippy cups, and laundry piles. Time out chairs. Making macaroni and cheese and watching Sesame Street. I was exhausted. My X believed firmly that he would make the money and pay the bills..I would do the rest. And he expected it to be done perfectly. (Like the 1950’s. I always secretly thought he was born in the wrong era. He liked to have a drink waiting when he got home and a wife that wouldn’t dare question him. I bet he got off watching Mad Men..) But at 22 I whole heartedly agreed to this plan. I would be the perfect little housewife! It would be great!
I don’t remember the details exactly. But the X was going to be away for the weekend. And I came up with a grand idea. I would clean out our large pantry and put fresh shelf paper down to surprise him when he got home. Yes. You heard me right. Shelf paper. I decided to spend my weekend alone cleaning, painting and installing shelf paper. To make my X happy. You see his mother was in his mind the ideal homemaker. She had a lovely pantry. With gingham shelf paper and alphabetized spice jars. Alphabetized! Labeled canisters. Perfectly aligned cans. I think it actually had art work hanging in it… How desperate for some sense of purpose was this woman?? Her pantry was dusted regularly by the housekeeper. The X commented frequently about his disappointment in our lack luster food storage situation.
So while balancing my regular duties and 2 adorable little assholes who needed my constant attention I emptied out the pantry and went to work. I’m pretty sure I was wearing sketchers and sweat pants. (My uniform..) Looking back I should have already known then that I wasn’t cut out for the X’s expectations. Shelf paper? Really?
Why was this ever a thing? Who are these women? And even more concerning-what man is impressed by it? Why do they give a shit about their shelves being covered with adorably printed paper? I mean let’s face it. You are decorating a closet at this point. You are saying I have nothing more valuable to do with my time than this. Plaid paper will bring more value to my existence. Sorry kids..watch another episode of Sponge Bob while I please your father with my spectacular shelf covering skills. Holy shit. Did I do that? I’m embarrassed just writing it.
And let me point out that shelf paper isn’t that easy to install. Its actually kind of tortuous. It’s wallpaper for shelves. You need yardsticks and exacto knives. It’s super sticky. And unforgiving. It takes some skill and patience. And I obviously lacked both. And let’s face it..even then I knew it was dumb. No matter how much I wanted to care..I couldn’t. I wasn’t Martha Stewart. Or my mother-in-law…
So they X came home. And if I remember correctly he wasn’t to impressed. I am not sure he even noticed. It still wasn’t his moms pantry. And while I diligently was working to have a show worthy pantry..my little Angels had been spilling apple juice and Cheerios all over the living room floor.
So what is the moral of this story? I’m not sure. I can tell you for sure I hate fucking shelf paper. That’s a given. I wish I had seen then that my X’s expectations were ridiculous. I wasn’t valued by him. And I wish that I had had the self-confidence to know that anyone judging me by my pantry was not the right person for me.
So guess what? I don’t have shelf paper. Or a husband. Thank God. They were both assholes. Outdated and irrelevant.
But I do have my shoes.. And they aren’t fucking sketchers. 👠
Divorce Shoes 