I had another post — I forget what. Oh.. Trump and whether Dad would have voted for him.
This moment, I’m thinking of the 1 1/2 hours I’ve blown helping my husband send a little yearbook plug for our son who’s wrapping up elementary school this year. This was supposed to be taken care of .. February something ..
For several hours, I watched my husband rummage through stacks, paw through drawers (yes!), look under beds (yes.). “What are you looking for?” He wouldn’t say, until finally he pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of this mystery envelope that he was supposed to have sent off to the PTA weeks ago.
“I remember that. What about it?”
“I put 5 dollars in it for Paul’s yearbook thing and I don’t know where it is.”
“You mean for the little advertisement for the yearbook with his picture on it and a note from us?”
“The one you texted me about? And you wanted some lines or something, so I texted you back and told you something kinda cool?”
“I thought you sent that off, that was weeks ago.”
“I know. Have you seen it?”
“Yeah. I threw it away.”
Husband made special arrangements with the PTA/yearbook lady, who had been so gracious as to do this favor for him. He had a deadline for tonight.
“Can you call her and ask her to send a template so we can know what to do?”
He didn’t write anything on the envelope and I’m The Purger in the family. Always The Purger. Even though I try to purge weekly or even daily with this younger set of kids we have, I’m still behind some X years, because there are several boxes of artwork that call to me every night from the garage. When you’re paying for the kids’ college bills, you tend to ignore anything that has to do with them. Texts, emails.. Junk.
But I do try to keep up with our little ones. Saner living.
So, tonight, after he contacted said lady and got instructions, I got stuck with figuring out how to get a 1 1/2 x 3 inch blank space formatted with Paul’s picture and some nice loving phrases in Word, and converting that document to a jpeg. It sucked. Especially because I lost time looking for Mentor Texts for my kids for tomorrow.
Well.. the nice thing is I remembered Dad always fussing through the house, making the family help with something he was late on. Dad was so last minute, too. He’d round everyone up, tell everyone his emergency, and we’d scramble to do whatever, find the thing, do everything that suited my Dad’s fancy. The house would get loud and people would get nervous. It was hell.
Tonight, in comparison, was rather peaceful. I realize I may not have recognized this peace and serenity in my life had my Dad not been such a tempestuous guy — thats crazy, but it’s true. Tonight turned out to be a good joke, especially because I get to talk about my dear husband’s knuckle-headedry. Plus, he has to stop paying attention to politics for the next several days because I’ve had it.
Favors lend weight to an argument, I guess. I’ve been trying to make him quit for weeks.
If it holds up, it’s worth the few hours loss of sleep.
“Are you done?” I ask. Yes. He. Is. Surfing. On. His. Phone.
“I’m keeping you company.. what are you doing?”
“Writing about you..”