Nov. 14, 2003 - 17:50 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Blind Spots

Every thing is all set, I am up and fed and even wearing clothes, though stumbling about a bit. Coffee and banana in front of me with the newspaper beside the plate. Heather leaves on errands, which might take all day or only an hour. So, I know what I plan to accomplish and go at it.

I answer the phone and make notes of people for Heather to call back in between what I am in the middle of doing. The day goes on and so do I. Somewhere about midday if I feel a pang of hunger, I scope the fridge and pantry. Nothing there that I can see that won't take a bunch of time to prepare. I go back to what I was doing.

Later the pangs are dinging at me and I go back. I find some soda crackers and a glass of milk. Carping to myself that I have to pour the darn stuff. Or, I forget and my tummy doesn't say a thing. Then it is often too close to supper time when she gets home, so not to confuse the issue I do not eat anything, but wait 'til Heather gets home.

She says, "Did you eat lunch Doug ?" My hesitant answer sometimes is, "Gee, I got into the middle of things and forgot. Too late now so I'll eat supper with you." That is I guess, the most diplomatic way to go. Sometimes though I let it slip that I had crackers and milk. Heather will remark, "Why didn't you eat the stuff I had in the fridge to micro-wave and eat ?"

Now that brings up a sore subject to me. Trying to guess what is in all those covered containers that are opaque is my onus. I'd rather go hungry. Then she'll say something like, "Why didn't you open a can of something, there is lots of stuff in there that you like ?" I'll say, "I didn't want to take the time to fix anything." Next comes, "Why didn't you fix ramen ? That's quick and you fix that the fastest I have ever seen." Grasping at straws, "Uh, I couldn't find any Hon." Wrong answer, she steps in the pantry and without looking, out comes my favorite pork flavored ramen in her hand. "Where did you find that ?" I ask. "Right here in plain sight," Heather says. Score 0 Heather 1.

It goes on with other subjects too. I hang my own clothes in the closet, put my own stuff in drawers and manage to get dressed on my own most of the time. Then we are getting ready to go visit, I have my clothes laid out that I am going to wear. Heather will say, "Why don't you wear that nice blue shirt of yours ?" Of course my take is, "Which blue shirt, I have six ?" "You know, that one that goes so well with (insert trousers color here)." So I take a guess and pull one out. Heather frowns and says, "Not that one." Back into the closet, out with another blue shirt which isn't the one either. By the time I have found the one she is talking about, six shirts have been displayed to her, five have been rehung and I am thanking my lucky stars she didn't say green shirt and change her mind to blue. Oh, and then it is much the same with trousers, whatever I am planning to wear are the wrong ones usually.

It works the same havoc on me with most things, "Set the table while I finish dinner, please Doug." Then come my questions, "Do you want me to use the regular dishes, good dishes or good-good dishes ?" Then, "Where is (you name it) ? comes from me." Reply shoots back, "Right where it always has been." There is room to argue here as things get rearranged at her whim and I don't get a program.

Seems as if I am totally without a brain or ability to see what is in front of my nose. Heather gets a mite unhappy with me, but you know -- I have a trait, a husband's Blind Spots . . . . . . . . .

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