After Steven got home from work, he took me to Farmington to pick up the truck, which had to have its computer rebooted at the dealership.
We passed a home on Rt. 146 and I started giggling.
“What are you chuckling about?” asked the mister.
“Oh, I was remembering that winter night when I showed up at their door. I wish you could have seen their faces when I said –all perky and celebratory!– ‘I’m here to perform the wedding!’ The woman stared at me blankly, but then turned around and asked the man in the wheelchair if he was getting married. He shook his head. I was already getting those prickles up my spine and the back of my head, knowing I’d landed in the wrong place. Then she asked the couple who were sitting at the supper table. ‘Are YOU getting married?’ Oh, my God. I was so embarrassed! And THEN I had to ask her for directions to the RIGHT house, which was a mile down the road! I wonder why I’ve done so many dumb things.”
“I don’t know.” He looked at me. “Or was I supposed to say, ‘You don’t do dumb things, honey!’?”
“No. I do. But I wonder why. At least I’m never bored!”
We turned onto Rt. 27. As we passed another house, I asked, “Is that where that guy lives that you were talking about the other day?”
“Yep.”
“What was his name? Jason?”
“No…”
“Justin?”
“No….”
I waited. And waited.
“Well, how do you know that’s not his name? You can’t remember it, either!”
“Well, I know what it’s NOT.”
Fair enough. We approached the turnoff to the Anson Valley Road and Steven spoke again.
“Good lookin’ tie-down, there! If it’s still in the road on the way back, I’m going to stop and pick it up.
“No you aren’t,” I replied.
“Why not?”
“Because you’d get run over, and I’m not cleaning up after you.” Seriously…I said, “I’m not cleaning up after you”??? Apparently, the imagery of the statement made an impression, because he didn’t argue.
I watched a crow pass overhead.
“Didn’t we see an eagle the other day?”
Steven glanced at me. “You said YOU did.”
“Where were we?”
“Somewhere between Elliotsville and home.”
“Well, I know THAT, Steven. But where?”
“You didn’t even know if ‘we’ saw one, a second ago!”
Fair enough.
He leaned forward and glanced skyward.
“Puckerupunrain?” One word. One question. I snorted.
“Oh, my God. We sound like a couple of old hicks!”
“Honey, I hate to tell you this, but we are.”
Fair enough. Sigh…
Karen, whose column has garnered a number of awards, welcomes your comments and/or questions; email her at roomtomove@tds.net. Visit her blog, Grumbles and Grins.
Leave a Reply