{{Humor}} The Chronicles of Ms. Wait-What and Mr. Distractable: ADHD, ADD, and the Power of Time-Outs

Marriage is an adventure, they say, but when you have ADD and your husband has ADHD, “adventure” takes on a whole new meaning. I’m Ms. Wait-What, the queen of multitasking and unintentional sidetracking. My superpower? The ability to say “Huh?” at least 17 times a day when I realize I’ve lost track of what I was doing. My husband, Mr. Distractable, is a whirlwind of enthusiasm, tangents, and half-finished projects. Together, we’re a love story wrapped in a sitcom, with Time-Outs as our saving grace.

Let me tell you about the infamous Vacuum Incident. I had one simple request for Mr. Distractable: vacuum the living room. Easy, right? Not for my husband. About ten minutes in, I walked into the living room to find furniture scattered everywhere, the vacuum abandoned in the corner, and him holding a cowboy boot he’d unearthed from under the couch.

“It doesn’t have a match!” he announced, as if he’d just discovered buried treasure. Then, as if on cue, his ADHD brain jumped tracks. “Oh, yeah! The laundry!” he exclaimed, dropping the boot and disappearing into the laundry room. I stood there blinking, trying to process how vacuuming turned into a scavenger hunt for socks. My response? A good old-fashioned, “Huh?” followed by the Time-Out finger as I headed for my coffee station to regroup.

Of course, I have my own fair share of “Wait, what?” moments. Take the time I decided to bake cookies. I got as far as mixing the dough when I noticed the cat napping in the sunbeam. Naturally, I had to take pictures, which reminded me that I hadn’t organized the photo albums yet. By the time Mr. Distractable found me, I was surrounded by old vacation photos, and the cookie dough was forgotten on the counter. His amused, “What happened here?” was met with my classic, “Huh?”

Dinner decisions in our house are a masterclass in distraction. I’ll start confidently with, “How about tacos tonight?” only to pause halfway through chopping vegetables and decide spaghetti sounds better. Meanwhile, Mr. Distractable will have already pivoted to his own culinary whims, and we’ll end up eating popcorn because neither of us followed through.

When things get heated—usually after I catch him eating half my spaghetti—we both know it’s time to call a Time-Out. These aren’t dramatic stomping-offs; they’re deliberate pauses to avoid turning a small disagreement into a full-blown debate. I’ll retreat to my coffee station, where I swirl creamer like a Zen master finding inner peace. Mr. Distractable, on the other hand, disappears into the garage, where he claims to “fix things” but usually ends up rearranging tools he’ll lose again tomorrow.

The beauty of the Time-Out isn’t just the pause—it’s the reset. By the time we come back together, his hyperfixation has softened, and my “Huh?” moments have turned into clarity. We can laugh about whatever nonsense sent us spiraling, and more often than not, we realize the argument wasn’t about the tacos at all—it was about learning to navigate life as two brains that never stop spinning.

Then there’s the peanut butter incident. I was adamant that the jar was right where I left it, only for him to find it behind the bread. “Huh,” I said, staring at it like it had been part of a secret peanut butter conspiracy. Or the time I started folding laundry, got distracted by a lone sock, and somehow ended up reorganizing the pantry. My brain may be a little scattered, but I like to think it’s also endlessly creative.

Living with Mr. Distractable is like hosting a never-ending circus. He’s the ringmaster, the clown, and the guy trying to juggle flaming torches all at once. And me? I’m the tightrope walker who occasionally stops mid-step to wave at the audience before remembering I’m supposed to be balancing.

Our marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. We laugh at our quirks, support each other’s wild ideas, and always, always find our way back to love—even if it takes a Time-Out or two. Mr. Distractable keeps me on my toes, and I keep him grounded (as much as anyone can ground a human tornado).

At the end of the day, it’s not about getting everything right. It’s about embracing the chaos, finding joy in the mess, and reminding each other why we chose this adventure in the first place. And that, my friends, is the story of Ms. Wait-What and Mr. Distractable—a love story powered by “Huh?” moments, teamwork, and a whole lot of laughter.