Routines are important when you get older. If I'm going to forget things, then I need to put them somewhere where I can't miss them. I came back to work yesterday for the first time in a month, and forgot to unplug my cell phone from the charger and bring it with me. So last night, I unplugged my fully charged phone and set it on the dresser next to my wallet so that I couldn't miss it this morning.
Nora called after I went to bed, to describe the cats pursuing a mouse in the living room and to ask for advice. Given her description of the cats' desire to adopt the mouse rather than eat it, I didn't have much advice. (At one point, the mouse actually ran directly into Ed's hip as he was sitting in the middle of the floor. He apparently gave the mouse a look that might be translated as "Hey, dude, cool it here. I'm watching TV and you're gonna knock over my beer." If gorillas can adopt cats, then cats can adopt mice...)
So I told her to call me if the cats also decided to open a bowling alley, and put the phone on the nightstand and went to sleep.
This morning, while I was in the shower, I remembered that the phone was on the nightstand, and that I was at dire risk of leaving it behind again. If Nora had been here, I would have called from the shower. "Hooonney?? Could you get my phone off the nightstand and put it next to my wallet on the dresser??" And all would have been solved. But instead, I had to tax my aging brain through the entire shampoo, rinse, and drying cycle. Remember The Phone. Remember the Phone. Remember The Phone.
That's hard work. When you're married, you whine once from the shower and your problem is fixed.
No comments:
Post a Comment