The Wrapper
Every morning, I spend about an hour picking up from the day before. It's mostly dinner dishes and toddler stuff. Wiping down surfaces, and sweeping up crumbs, and always, always picking up John's wrappers.
Candy wrappers, granola bar wrappers, empty oatmeal packets- it's nonstop. I silently seethe while I watch him unwrap anything and then just throw the wrapper on the floor. We've been together for almost 9 years so I've become used to it, but not any less annoyed. It is a constant nagging on my part as I shuffle around the house, picking up discarded applesauce cups and fruit snack packages under our bed. That's why, when I came across the tiny corner of a blue Durex condom wrapper on the floor of our truck, I was initially shocked, but not so much surprised. Of course this fucking idiot forgot to pick up his wrapper.
Although I haven't seen a condom wrapper in years, I immediately recognized what it was and why it caught my eye. My first reaction was to laugh, and John did too, with Jack innocently pretending to drive the truck. When it dawned on me what exactly was happening, it was followed with a loud WHAT THE FUCK??????!!!!!! John stopped laughing, but denied it was his (Is that a condom wrapper?!!? HA HA), blamed it on the guy we bought the truck from 10 months ago, and even tried to speculate that maybe some stranger just threw it in an open window. Ok.
Short of walking in on your husband balls deep in another broad, what other evidence of infidelity do you need than a tiny corner of a condom wrapper on the floor of your truck? I'd have to be a fucking idiot to not be suspicious. And, without going into specifics about his job, John is trained to be able to lie.
My first instinct was to check his cell phone, which he readily gave up. I didn't find anything incriminating. I thought I found a hot lead when I saw a "Shannon" that I didn't recognize with a short conversation catching up. She was an ex that I've never heard of (Sorry, Shan) that had messaged him and John told her that now he's a family man with two kids and a wife that "he loves completely". Sweet, right? But when I asked what happened to this relationship, he admitted that he had cheated on her. Well. well. WELL!
Listen, my gut reaction was to trust John. That's why with the condom wrapper still in my hand, I laughed. And yet- I couldn't shake my suspicion. I caught myself staring at John over the next couple days wondering if he was capable of the infidelity, of the lying. Maybe I listened to Lemonade a few times too many (Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks). We watched the movie "The Art of Racing in the Rain" and he cried when the dog died but curiously didn't cry when the wife died of brain cancer. (Sorry for the spoiler, but it's been a book for about 12 years now and I've already read it twice. Full disclosure, I also only cried when the dog died and not the wife too).
John knew how it bad it looked. He pointed out that it could possibly be my condom! Yeah, cause whenever I get 20 minutes alone away from my babies, my first thought is about dicking down strangers. I'm thinking about Joanna Gains candles. We fought for a couple days, and I kept making attempts to catch him guilty. But basically all I saw was him cry at a dog movie and a sweet message about me to his ex.
Finally, John was like we need to solve this case! And we went back to investigate the truck further. We couldn't find the original wrapper, but instead we found another full purple Durex condom wrapper. A clue!
The expiration date was 3/19 which is technically 5 months before we even bought the truck. John suggested we could maybe trace the bar code to prove where and when it was purchased! But we both knew the only other option was to message the seller of the truck and ask if he was fucking in this truck anytime before 3/19. We both agreed how painfully awkward this conversation would be, but what other option did we have? John was adamant of his innocence, but I still had my doubts! If anything, now I had TWO condom wrappers, which is already one more than I was comfortable with.
Oh, this makes me cringe. Poor Joey, getting this request. We waited for his response. John, indignant. Me, deeply smelling suspicious stains on our truck's seat cushions. Finally, we get a response.
This feels like a happy ending to an Usher song! Seriously, didn't John seem so guilty? Now I look like the asshole, ever doubting him and never suspecting horny groomsmen. Classic mix-up! But let this be a lesson to anyone decorating with condoms in the future or if anyone has any plans to cheat on their wives: pick up your fucking wrappers!