Why I am in charge of the "stuff" around here...

For the past two weeks, the Husband has been working on a trailer. We got it free, but it needed some work. Specifically new lights and wiring. But with our crappy weather, he's only been able to work on it in spurts. Saturday, it was a nice day out, so he decided it was time to wrap it up. He gathers all his tools from the nether regions of the house, takes them outside and spreads them out. Now, he's looking for his two containers of connectors, wiring parts, and such. Can't find them. He stomps all over the house. I am working at the computer (I swear, it really was work), and he stops to ask me a handful of times whether I have seen these containers and if I have touched them. Each time, I say no. I ask if he's looked in a few specific places—you know, where they SHOULD be. Of course, answer is no. He's convinced it has been stolen, either from our driveway or from the back deck (lest I remind him, these containers belong in neither of these places). Stranger things have happened, but I can't help but recall Bill Cosby's stand-up routine where he's convinced someone "Came in my house and done stole my remote!" The Husband huffs and puffs and has now declared that he must make another trip to Lowe's because not only is he now out of electrical tape, but one of the side-marker lights was in there. Off he goes. An hour later, I am called to the driveway to help test lights. Yay, they work! Fast forward to this evening. Husband is getting home from work, gathering all his uniforms, as new ones are being issued tomorrow. If you haven't guessed yet, the Husband is the messy one around here. He sheds clothing and tends to leave it. This makes me want to burn his clothing and yell and scream and stomp my feet. But if I did that, the Daughter's behavior would be blamed on me, and I can't be having any of that. Anywho, he is collecting shirts out of his truck. And finds the containers INSIDE his truck. Under a pile of clothing. His words to me? "Well, if you drove my truck more often, it wouldn't be so messy. I wouldn't have lost them." I can't stand driving his truck because it looks like he's homeless. Which is also precisely why I hate him driving my car—he always leaves remnants of his day behind. This is why I remain "Keeper of all things."