NOT A REAL CLOSER

When we live with a person for a long period of time, we can become annoyed with habits they either have or develop.  After thirty nine years of marriage, Mud Flap and I have developed quite a few that could be considered “unpleasant” or “totally maddening”.   As a Prom Queen, I feel certain that I have none of these ugly characteristic behaviors.  However, I know that in some eyes I might be an offender in the grandest of senses.

            But since this is my story, I only choose to pin point the habits of my darling Mud Flap!  Over the years, I have noticed that he has developed the habit of “not closing” the trash masher.  This started at our vacation home.  I would awaken to an open trash masher every morning of our time spent on vacation.  I always wondered if it was broken.  I tried to tinker with the machine.  It always worked perfectly for me and I assumed that the closing mechanism was only misfiring when used by Mud Flap.  One morning, I awoke to find it not only ajar, but opened all the way.  This stumped me.  When Mud Flap wandered into the kitchen a good three or four hours later (sleep for Mud Flap is one that begins at two am and extends until noon – why bother going to sleep in the dark when you can sleep the day away!)  I asked what had happened.  Had the machine just refused to close?  Was there too much garbage?  Was there a living creature that he was trying to nurture?  Did that creature need more air? 

            “Honey” he responded, “I always leave it open so that it doesn’t break.  If you use it too much and open and close it too much, it will break.  Don’t you understand?”  I quietly tried to assimilate this new found information.  My mind wandered through the gambit of logical responses to this answer.  Was I just too uninformed to think that one could purchase a piece of equipment that could be opened and closed?  Was this limitation one that I never realized?  Was garbage a real attractive addition to our kitchen and truly needed to be displayed?  My puzzlement left me speechless.  But, life went on…..

            We then acquired a new one in our home when we moved.   I was very excited about having one and made sure that closing was in the contract.  It was.  I determined that this would not be an issue with this new machine.  I was assured by the salesman that this was not an issue that had plagued the thousands of customers that had purchased this particular piece of equipment.  It seems that this was unique to our trash masher.  At first, I delighted in being able to have our garbage “under wraps” so to speak.   I never had to enjoy the view of last night’s dinner when coming into the kitchen after my early morning runs.  Absolute joy was mine!   But, suddenly, in the past few months, the same problem must have developed.  Mud Flap began the habit of leaving the trash masher open.  It happened gradually.  At first, I thought, “he just forgot that this is not an issue with our machine.  He has forgotten” I didn’t mention it for fear that this would only encourage this type of behavior.  But, alas, the case of the open trash masher continued and is now perpetual.  Not only do we have all of our garbage on display for all to see, we are sharing the aroma of “old food” with all…..and our home smells like the city dump!  And, to make this even more exciting, I now find all the kitchen cabinets left ajar.  After every meal.  After every visit to the kitchen.  While I sleep, and while Mud Flap has his midnight feasts, they curiously open and stay open for me to find them the next morning.

            After a few months of watching this deteriorating situation, I decided to ask Mud Flap about the case of the curiously open cabinet doors and trash masher.   While he was showering, after a particularly active day of open cabinets and trash masher, I asked him (very innocently) “Honey, I noticed that the cabinets and trash masher are open.  Are you finished in the kitchen?  Are you going back to finish a project that has somehow escaped my knowledge?”  He responded, ever so innocently, “I noticed that I do that.  I guess you could say that I’m just not a closer.”  And that ended the conversation.

            Amazing, how a really annoying habit can be explained so easily.  “I’m not a closer” could probably become an explanation for all that is left undone in our life. 

            So easy.  How could I have missed this?  Life is funny…..

AS LONG AS YOU’RE GOING…..

            I love to share stories of romantic moments  .  They can be very fleeting sometimes.  Or they can be very emotional and develop over a long and sentimental conversation.  They can be the most spontaneous or the most “thought out” moments. 

            My romantic moment of the day came this evening.   It came in the middle of the week….a Wednesday.  Normally, we save our “romantic date” for the weekend when we can both relax and enjoy a care free evening with no looming work appointments or obligations.   But, as it may, our moment came early this week.

            Mud Flap had come home from work after having “meetings” with fellow colleagues.  This meant that a few libations had been shared after leaving the office and before coming home.  This was not unusual and I had dinner waiting for him when he came home.  He was in a very celebratory mood and shared and shared and shared the events of the day.   The mood was one of great relief to have so many pending items “off the list of worries” and for that, I was delighted. 

            One story led to another and that lead to yet one more.  Dinner ran a little late….because one must “unwind” and enjoy that Dewar’s before sitting down to dinner…… So, dinner was a real dénouement to the evening so to speak.  After cleaning up the dishes, Mud Flap looked up at me and said, “Honey, do you want a blizzard?”  (This is the dessert of choice for so much of the time…we do live very close to a DQ and they do make wonderful Heath Bar/Oreo/Butterfinger Blizzards).  Since I had long since finished any thought of dining as it was almost my bed time (Prom Queens really do need their beauty sleep!)  I declined on the offer of a blizzard.  “Well, would you drive with me?  I’d love to spend some more time with you!”  

            How sweet you might say.  I thought so too.  And, being somewhat responsible, I replied, “Well, I’d love to.   I’ll drive so that you can relax and we can visit! “ (and the scotch in your hand won’t spill out!)  

            After a brief pause, he responded, “Well, if you’re driving, would you just mind going and getting me one and I’ll wait here for you?” 

            Now if that doesn’t spell romance, I don’t know what does!

DON'T YOU ADORE YOUR GRANDCHILDREN!

            I don’t think I could love my grandchildren anymore than I do.  As I have said before, when I first met my oldest grand son I looked at my husband and said, “he is the man in my life….the rest of the family just became twenty on my list of ten!”  They capture my heart and as any proud grandmother, they are the most intelligent, beautiful creatures ever created.

            And they are funny.  Out of the mouths of babes so applies to these little creatures.  After a recent visit with my grandchildren, I was so excited to have the younger one be able to say my name.  My grandmother name is “Marnie” and for so long, the younger of the two couldn’t say my name.  This is not unusual and I awaited the day when he would look at me and recognize me with a certain name.  This had been done before my visit with a very clear “Doo Doo”!  I laughingly responded in kind, thinking that somehow this might have been in error.  No, my daughter assured me, he looks at my picture and clearly says “Doo Doo”.  Why I wondered until one day his big brother called me on the phone and playfully said “Doo Doo Marnie” – we are definitely into Potty Talk.  Since I love anything they say, I always respond with a “you are too funny precious!”  To which they reiterated “Doo Doo Marnie”.  (An aside at this point.  A conversation that was overheard between my four year old grandson and one of his peers is that “I talk potty talk with my Marnie…its O.K.”) 

            All that is to say, the mystery was solved.  My younger grandson got the first part of the name, and not the second!  But, as he has grown and after spending a week with them, I got my first “Marnie” from his sweet little voice!  I was elated and he now repeats and repeats it for me!  I’m in heaven.

            Now to my story.  I got a call from my daughter about the most recent venture to Target with this precious newly vociferous darling.   They were shopping and he suddenly saw a display of Miralax.  Now you might wonder why I bring this up but I must.  Since I’m an aging body, this is now part of my morning routine.  And because it is packaged in such bright and appealing colors, it has been an object of great curiosity to my grandchildren!  That being said, when he spied that display, he proudly announced (in a very loud voice I might add) “MARNIE!”   Again, and again, and again!   To all in the area, they appreciated that his Marnie obviously loved Miralax! 

            I have since wondered why he couldn’t have just gone back to “Doo Doo” for one day.  This would have left the audience thinking him to be the most precocious of 18 month olds!

            I love my grandchildren!!!