“Julia…I’m BEGGING you…go WRITE!”
This was from my usually sweet and patient husband, Marty, Saturday morning as I was getting ready to go to Europe with my girlfriend.
In his defense, I was pretty over the top…I am NOT a cool calm traveler. I am more the neurotic type who makes lists upon lists and checks everything off as I get it done, and then I make more lists and go back and recheck everything I checked off the first list got done properly.
In other words…I’m a WRECK!
But when you’re leaving your house and even your country, there are things that must be done. Things like laundry for instance…I’m not sure Marty knows what the “laundry room” is actually for except for depositing his dirty clothes in the hamper. He’ll say he “knows how to wash clothes,” but I’ve not seen any evidence of it in the 21 years of our marriage.
I want to make sure he has plenty of clothes and my stepson Van will be coming to stay with his dad while I’m gone so I need to get his guest room ready as well. I do know Van knows how to wash clothes because I personally taught him to do it years ago before when he went off to college. Even armed with the knowledge, I think his motto is to “wash when I run out of clothes” so I want to make sure there’s plenty of detergent and dryer sheets for him although I’ve never seen any indication he uses dryer sheets. I don’t think dryer sheets are a “man thing.”
I’m unclear about the dishwasher, though. Until recently, Marty didn’t seem to know exactly where it was. He’d bring his morning coffee cup to the kitchen and leave it in the sink. If he looked about 12 inches to his left, he’d see the dishwasher. Once I pointed that out, he’s been diligently putting his coffee cup in it instead of the sink, but he had to be taught.
Then there’s groceries. The last time I went to Europe, I bought all sorts of sandwich spreads, soups, and salads in the bag, along with chips, fruit, and vegetables. When I got home, they were all untouched.
The produce was wilting in the fridge and the sandwich spreads were all expired. The bananas were black and the apples were puckered. The tomatoes I had left on the window sill to ripen had turned into some kind of bizarre science project and the bread I had carefully selected 16 days prior was now a lovely mold color.
They Door-Dashed the entire time I was gone. Every. Single. Day. Our curbside trash was bulging with carry-out cups and bags. The recycle people must have thought we were running a secret fast food business out of the house!
I’m surprised our HOA people didn’t write us up.
The most important thing on the list is the care and feeding of our dog, Charlie, and our kitty, Copper. While Charlie is a laid back pup who will go to anyone offering a belly rub, Copper is much more discriminating with her affections. She is MY cat and I am HER human. While she will allow Marty to pet and scratch her, it takes her a few days to warm up to any house guest we have, and in her discerning opinion, Van is a guest in HER house. She’s typically an indoor/outdoor cat, and she usually willingly comes inside when I’m home.
Not so much when I’m away.
She tortures Marty by sitting on the deck and meowing to come in, but when he opens the door she’s off like a flash. When Van is here, she’s very guarded because, although she knows he is feeding her, she’s still wary of, I’m sure in her mind, this “new person.” She’s outside today, but Van and Marty have already said she will be staying inside during my absence. That girl’s feet won’t be touching any grass till I come home!
While Copper is cautious with her love of people, she’s willing to put all doubts aside to eat. She may not come to her bowl while anyone is around but she will definitely get to it in her own time.
Charlie is far more discerning about his food. I have purchased every brand and texture of food available for small dogs and I have a fresh baked chicken waiting on him as well. Sometimes it takes several tries to get him to eat…what he ADORED on a Tuesday he will turn his nose up to it on a Wednesday. I placate him and work with him to find what food he’s in the mood for but I know that’s not happening during my trip. He dearly loves teriyaki beef jerky so I usually stir in half a piece or so in his bowl just to encourage him to take a nibble. He had some teeth pulled a year or so ago, so I usually chew it up a little first.
That was a hard NO when I asked my fellas to do that.
All in all, I know the “babies” will be well taken care of while I’m gone and neither of them will go hungry. And who knows…Charlie may learn to chew his own jerky! After all…Marty figured out the dishwasher. Kids! They grow up so fast.
I’m just saying…
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