MISSING INFORMATION

My wife has run off with my sister. They were only supposed to vacation together for a little over a week, but when Linda asked Mary Ellen if I could manage alright being alone for so long, Mary Ellen said, “He’ll be fine. I’ll only be gone 10 years.” I assume she meant 10 days. I’d like Dr. Freud to examine that verbal slip.

The truth is that we both have habits that annoy each other after 45 years.  But after about a week, I started to miss all the things Mary Ellen does that irk me.  Here are some examples…

It bugs me when we go somewhere where we’ve been hundreds of times, like our Unitarian Church, and right before the exit Mary Ellen says: “This is your exit coming up. “

Well, I know this.  I’ve driven here every week for 12 years. Well, at least I wasn’t going to have to hear that directive for two weeks. While she was gone, I missed the exit twice.

I hate it when Mary Ellen lectures me about putting things back on the right shelves in the fridge. She says that if I don’t do that, I won’t be able to find anything next time. I knew once she left that I had full control of storage in our Samsung appliance. That first night, I just threw things back in randomly. I mean, what’s the difference? Yesterday, I ate a hot dog with mayonnaise on it. I know the mustard is in the fridge. But I have no clue where.

Something that really drives me crazy is when she walks into my home office, she always ends up fiddling with something. She straightens the photos on the wall and adjusts the lamp shades. But what really drives me nuts is how she always fixes the slats on my blinds, which are always askew because I often open one just to check the weather. While she was away, I sent her a selfie from my office with the blinds behind me. Yes, she texted back and told me two slats were open. I looked carefully at the photo. I never knew we had a Peeping Tom in our neighborhood.

It also irritates me when she corrects me for using the wrong kitchen towel to wipe something. She’ll say, “That’s for the counter, not to dry dishes,” or “Don’t use that towel to clean the spill on the floor; it’s for pots and pans.” I was relieved when she left, thinking I could use towels however I pleased. But now I miss her sage advice because I realized I shouldn’t use the same towel to dry a dinner plate that I used to check the oil dipstick under the car hood.

 When Mary Ellen was gone, I watched about 12 baseball playoff games. I was finally free of her persistent question during every sporting event. “Is it over, yet? Dinner is on the table.” Now, I could finally watch the playoff games in peace. But I truly missed her when one playoff game went 15 innings, lasting until 1:00 am. I knew if Mary Ellen were home, she would have waited up until the final inning, kept the food hot for me, and waited to eat so we could sit together for dinner.

Did you actually believe that for one second?