Trout Republic: Yours, mine and ours

If there is one thing Ol’ Dutch has learned in life it’s that if you decide to share your life with someone it won’t be long before you are also sharing your stuff.

Anyone that has gone through a sheet-splitting knows all too well about this fact of life because when it comes right down to it, more than the bedsheets are divided up and often not too equally. But that’s a story for another time.

This story for today is about how things get apportioned as you proceed along life’s highway together with your beloved.

A good share of you know how unfair this can be and you are willing to put up with a certain amount of unfair allocation to keep the peace -- kind of like dividing up Europe after WWII.

And for those of you who are still shocked at the way things end up, you have to recall that it really all started at those wedding showers for the bride-to-be. If you look back, she got all the gifts of shiny baubles and nifty table decorations, cutesy nick knacks and a few paddy whacks, and all us men got was the bone.

We were willing to put up with such shenanigans as our beloved had us assured that things would never change and we would still have our own stuff and space and be able to do whatever we wanted in life - with some exceptions of course.

And even those notable rules were not too bad to start with such as giving up carousing which we were tired of anyway and coincided with early morning hunting and fishing start times.

So we went along but before you know it, things did, in fact, change. Ol’ Dutch began to see a noticeable change in what was hers and mine and ours. Anything of real value like vehicles and houses were on the “ours” list while household items were on the “hers” list.

You can tell where each item is by how she talks about it. She will say our cars, our truck, our boat, our house and that’s all fine and dandy as normally we have to kick in on the costs if not pay for all of that outlay.

Whereas anything in the house, she will soon identify as “my pans, my mattress, my couch and my towels.” This is really good as it gives a man fair warning that if things do go South, those things are going North with her.

All in all Ol’ Dutch has played it safe thus far as the ole knot of marital bliss has eluded me and Miss Trixie but I am starting to notice that more and more things we have belong to her and less and less to me.

Just last summer before the garage sale season, I warned Trixie not to bring anything else home unless she got rid of something of equal size and mass. Now all of Ol’ Dutch’s’ stuff is outside. I guess that didn’t work out all that well?

Another area that has somehow gotten to her domain is all the food and snacks in the house. I had not noticed that too much until Miss Trixie took a sabbatical to care for ill family members and Ol’ Dutch had full access to the cupboards.

I went through them and found nuts and chocolate stashed in there with no one to tell me to save that for company. Why even now, there is a full bag of Texas pecans in the fridge and I have been warned within an inch of my life not to touch those as they are for someone else.
So to all of you that find yourself in such straits, whatever you have left that you can even remotely identify as yours, get a sharpie and mark it quick before it disappears in the vortex from mine to ours to hers.
And remember, for goodness’ sake, don’t use the towel marked “His” on the bathroom rack as that is being saved for the man who will take your place should you eat the pecans.

Kevin Kirkpatrick and his Yorkie, Cooper, fish, hunt, ATV or hike daily. His email is [email protected] Additional news can be found at or on Twitter at TroutRepublic


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