All I wanted to do was write an essay to post for tomorrow morning and “all hell breaks loose” as my mother would have said. My train of thought was off in all directions and now I can’t even remember what I was trying to write. It wasn’t making much sense any more anyway.
Andrew, home for a few days during spring break, was going over some music for a concert he is playing in for the Northwest Florida Symphony Orchestra on Saturday. H was off getting the oil changed in his truck and I was trying to take advantage of the first down time I’d had in a week to write.
Why I even thought I might have a block of time for myself is beyond comprehending. I stopped writing twice to show Andrew how to work the new printer – even though I’m still not sure of the mechanisms of that myself.
Andrew interrupts me again while rummaging around in the drawers of the china cabinet. “I know there are some razor blades around this house. Didn’t you find boxes of razor blades when we moved here? I need one.” (H’s parents kept everything – forever!)
“That was too many years ago Andrew.” So I get up and start looking. He said a box cutter would do, but I have no clue where one is.
H arrive home in the middle of this discussion and says he had one a few weeks ago when he was opening the box with the new TV. (The TV that is back in the box and taped up, sitting in the middle of my living room – in the way – waiting three weeks for a shipping label to arrive to send back. That’s another story.) Of course he has no idea where he put it and I should know because…well because I’m the woman of the house and I just should!
He tells Andrew there should be a box cutter in the work room or at least there should be some razor blades in there.
I suggest to Andrew he let his Dad go look for that because you can’t even put a foot in the door of that workroom because there is way too much stuff. (Shut my mouth!)
H comes back in with an antique looking box of razor blades I am sure would have the date 1967 or earlier printed on it if things like that had dates printed on them.
“Sheesh Dad! How old are these anyway? They are probably all rusted.”
I commented, “They are old Andrew. You should know you don’t throw anything around here away. As long as you have it, it should work!” Yes, I was being facetious.
H ignored me while picking through the box and finding a decent one handed it to Andrew. Then he took the box and put it carefully away with all the other
crap antiques in his workroom.
I had settled back down to write again – but not for long!
“Mom, do you have any super glue?”
I close up my laptop. Time to give it up. “Not that I know of. I will have to look.” You know as well as I do it is always easier to look for something yourself rather than let someone else look. Especially boys and old men.
Now I can’t even remember the last time I used super glue. Everyone knows each bottle of super glue is a one time use. I’ve never been able to use a bottle more than once because the lid glues itself back on or it dries up. Take your pick.
After a half-hearted search my answer was, “Nope, no glue Andrew.”
By then I decided I might as well get dinner cooked because writing was not happening. It wasn’t meant to be. H lighted the grill for the steaks we had marinating and proceeded to tell me what I needed to get ready for him to grill. (I’m shaking my head here.)
After dinner, Andrew picked up his tambourine off the heating pad on the floor – don’t ask because I can’t tell you. He wanted to know why that heating pad wasn’t heating.
I glanced his way and said, “You have to turn on the outside light for that outlet to work.” He gave me a disgusted look and flipped on the light.
I left them both in the front of the house with H listening to Andrew work on music. The tambourine is tambourining, the triangle is dinging and I should be glad there is no drum drumming! It’s much more peaceful in the back of the house – or it was until H came back here and turned the TV on. I guess this will be the end of this post!
I don’t know what he needed that (1)razor blade and (2)super glue for and we all need (3)electricity!