It's 10PM. Do You Know Where Your Husband Is?

Mine is dragging himself to the barn. He failed to plan ahead.
Our school is at one end of a historic little town, opposite the one traffic light. It consists of the original building constructed of fieldstone in the 1700's, and a more modern building where the classes are held now. I was originally thrilled that we would be driving by it twice every day.
I didn't account for the siren song of the announcement sign out front. My husband cannot resist a PTA meeting. He especially cannot resist a PTA meeting where cool technology will be demonstrated to the attendees. When the demonstration turns out to be at the end of the meeting, he has stay for it.
My husband does not plan for PTA meetings. He invariably reads the PTA meeting announcements and forgets the dates until he sees the sign outside the school on his way home the night of the meeting. This time at least he called me so I knew he would be nearly two hours late getting home.
He dragged himself in the door with my son at about 8:30PM. I warmed up plates of dinner for them, got my son into bed, and told my husband that I was going to bed and no, I would not help him with the barn chores he was scheduled to complete.
He attended this meeting in spite of my announcement this morning that our family is short of sleep and tonight should be an early one. Reason cannot compete with shiny gadgets.
I love our little town with the fieldstone houses lining the street. I love our little school. I just wish it wasn't precisely on our route to work.

Overconfidence

Sometimes being the only person who knows where her car keys are goes to my head a bit. I become too proud of knowing just where the tape is, and being able to instantly produce the pliers because I put them where they belong when I used them last. This is such magic to my husband that I begin to think it's magic, too. And I think it can't fail me.
Several days ago I received a call from the owner of a local farm asking if the two chestnuts and two bays roaming the countryside were mine. After all the trauma of catching them and assessing them for injuries (horses are injured if you sneeze on them, especially Thoroughbreds), I stopped to think about how they escaped. For once I didn't think I could blame the unlatched gate on my husband or son. It rested squarely at my door. I had been putting wire on a gate, removing hay from the pen, and responding to my son's cries of "the puppy got away!", and I forgot that I needed to latch the gate. I even recall making a mental note of it.
It feels like such betrayal when my non-ADD brain behaves like my husband's brain. I'm shocked and furious and the world just seems upside down. I don't handle it well. My husband handles it much better when it happens to him. After all, he's used to the world being upside down. And like most people in denial I usually assume it's someone else's fault until the truth stares me in the face. I'm always certain that I cannot possibly have forgotten or misplaced something. People with ADD do that. I don't do that.
I wonder if spouses of ADD people expect more of themselves? Is my uncanny ability to summon a mental picture of anything my husband is looking for and reel off its location really normal? How much mental energy do I spend every day in the effort to be the opposite of my husband and son?
I'm tired. I'm going to bed now.

-P