Tuesday, June 23, 2009

A Summer Working Vacation

It's a beautiful vacation day in the back yard.

The sun is shining hot, the water in the pool is crystal blue, and the radio is keeping me informed of the latest updates on late breaking Detroit Tiger news.

And as I sit here and type this in, I realize that you may be misunderstanding how truly busy I am on this amazingly beautiful summer morning.

I'm not just sitting around with my feet up. My lovely wife Darlene had just asked me to put them down.

"Not on my clean patio table you don't…" she chastised.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself, Master."

I think she was being sarcastic.

"Oh, I'm fine thanks", I replied.

Then my lovely wife explained - as she frequently does - all that she had done and was currently doing to make our home a beautiful place to spend one's vacation.

"… and my back is killing me and I just can't do any more!", she finished. I realized she had indeed been sarcastic with her earlier reply.

Then she sat down and explained all that needs to be done this morning.

"The tarp from the pool is still lying under the girls swing set. That needs to be hosed off, folded up and put away in the garage. Then you need to get the solar blanket down from the rafters, hose it down, and put it on the roller, then go ask Mark next door if he will help you set it up on the posts by the pool. Then the weeds need whacking, the cars need washing, and the …"

She did not even come close to taking her first breath before I interrupted her, looking up from the keyboard and the white page on the screen … wondering what I was going to write about today.

"I'm really quite busy already", I stated quite calmly.

"You are? Doing what? Looking at baseball statistics or chatting with old high school girlfriends?"

"Neither."

"All I see is an empty coffee cup, a white empty page on your screen, and half eaten banana!", she continued … the red starting to creep into her forehead and cheeks.

"I'm vacuuming the pool right now." In the pool squirming around in a chaotic pattern was the automatic vacuum device we call the 'Nomad', sucking up the odd patch of dirt and sunken leaf.

My lovely wife rolled her eyes at me.

"I'm also doing a load of laundry". I pointed to the air vent at the corner of the house where the dryer vent was blowing out hot air, making the corner of the bush planted beside it jiggle.

My lovely wife crossed her arms and stared at me.

"And I'm washing last night's dinner and this morning's breakfast dishes!", I said a bit more emphatically. There was nothing visible to prove my point from the back yard. She would just have to take my word for it. " What more do you want?"

My lovely wife sucked in her cheeks, did a big huff, turned and stomped up the deck stairs to go in the kitchen through the sliding glass door.

"Could you grab me a pop on your way back, I asked. "I'm starting to work up a real sweat! That's be great."

The sliding glass door slammed shut, and my black lab Suzie did a soft disgruntled moan as she rolled over out of the crack of sunlight that found her shady spot in the deck floor.

I glanced back over at the Nomad at the bottom of the pool. It was still wiggling its way to the next little speck of dirt.

I glanced over to the corner bush. It was still jiggling from the air billowing out of the dryer.

And therefore I just naturally assumed that the dish washer was still making our dishes sparkling clean.

So I turned my attention back to the white page on my screen and started typing, inspired by my near state of perspiration.

Slam! The sliding glass door closed again.

Slam! An ice cold can of Lemonade appeared next to me on the patio table – the now empty coffee cup scooped up while still jiggling from the vibration.

I guess all things are subject to matters of perspective.

I then heard splashing coming from the pool. My lovely wife – now clad in a bathing suit – had floated her way over to the Nomad wiggling in the pool. She grabbed the hose and moved the vacuum head over to a speck of dirt.

I watched her as she looked at me with a great big smile.

"It missed a spot", she said.

My lovely wife then floated back to the middle of the pool on her back. Her feet floating up in the air. She smiled and said …

"Now I'm vacuuming the pool too!"

I knew she would come around to my line of thiking.

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