School, church, flop house, gym, 24 hour diner, counseling center and truck stop.: My husband, the trucker, came home for a spell to disrupt the smooth flow of our dysfunctional home. He made certain advances that I dare say were not welcome. I reminded him about social distancing. He claimed there were exceptions for essential services. I am reviewing his request.
I mentioned this request to one of my friends who in turn told her friend who is a nurse. She offered me one of her masks to help aid in resolution. Here, my friends, is the fundamental problem with nurses. First, she has a mask. Just sit with that one for a minute. I worked in pharmacy for 30 years, the last 7 years unable to supply N95 masks in any consistent manner, and she has one to spare. Second. Way too quick to triage this as an emergency. I know at the most, Jared will be home for 34 hours, the least, ten. I didn't get to this point in my life without being able to stall. Third. One mask? She is either mad kinky or selfish. Neither are acceptable.
The physical fun in our marriage was achieved with a rousing game of "Jared has money in his wallet." I needed a coke and had no money, but he had money in his wallet. Fun fact about Jared. You could bury him naked, under 20 feet of dirt at the height of the depression with nothing and he would emerge in clean clothes, extra socks and money in his wallet. His mom did well. Anyway, we both made a run for his shorts, lets pretend they were hanging up and not on the floor, and while he got to them first, I played dirty and got the wallet. The kids heard this ungodly racket and came into our room. (thank goodness we never got that mask). We were hysterically laughing and attending to our injuries when I went into the hall, opened the wallet and gave the kids instructions and money. A while later, Mary quietly took me aside and said "Mom. I saw something of dads that I don't think he wanted me to see." I felt the blood drain from my face as I thought back to what we had been wearing when they walked in. Before I could even start to come up with a rational explanation for any of this, she said, "dad has twenties!" I sat for a moment wondering if "twenties" was some kind of slang for body parts. I said "you mean money?" after an awkward silence and a really weird look, she said "of course" in that haughty way she has. I dispatched them to go do what they do, and spent the rest of the evening watching a movie with Jared and drinking my coke.
I mentioned this request to one of my friends who in turn told her friend who is a nurse. She offered me one of her masks to help aid in resolution. Here, my friends, is the fundamental problem with nurses. First, she has a mask. Just sit with that one for a minute. I worked in pharmacy for 30 years, the last 7 years unable to supply N95 masks in any consistent manner, and she has one to spare. Second. Way too quick to triage this as an emergency. I know at the most, Jared will be home for 34 hours, the least, ten. I didn't get to this point in my life without being able to stall. Third. One mask? She is either mad kinky or selfish. Neither are acceptable.
The physical fun in our marriage was achieved with a rousing game of "Jared has money in his wallet." I needed a coke and had no money, but he had money in his wallet. Fun fact about Jared. You could bury him naked, under 20 feet of dirt at the height of the depression with nothing and he would emerge in clean clothes, extra socks and money in his wallet. His mom did well. Anyway, we both made a run for his shorts, lets pretend they were hanging up and not on the floor, and while he got to them first, I played dirty and got the wallet. The kids heard this ungodly racket and came into our room. (thank goodness we never got that mask). We were hysterically laughing and attending to our injuries when I went into the hall, opened the wallet and gave the kids instructions and money. A while later, Mary quietly took me aside and said "Mom. I saw something of dads that I don't think he wanted me to see." I felt the blood drain from my face as I thought back to what we had been wearing when they walked in. Before I could even start to come up with a rational explanation for any of this, she said, "dad has twenties!" I sat for a moment wondering if "twenties" was some kind of slang for body parts. I said "you mean money?" after an awkward silence and a really weird look, she said "of course" in that haughty way she has. I dispatched them to go do what they do, and spent the rest of the evening watching a movie with Jared and drinking my coke.
