Letters from North
America
I
don’t do good with sick.
As in someone else
besides me being sick.
In this case, it’s my
wife. She’s sick, in
bed, running a fever and
won’t eat anything I’ve
brought her. This is
really messing up my
routine.
First off, I am a person
of some regularity; I
get up at the same time,
make coffee, let the
dogs out, bring in the
paper, give the dogs a
bone, pour my coffee and
read the news of the
day. I do this for about
two hours and then get
dressed for work. With
my wife being under the
weather my routine has
been drastically
altered. I have to sleep
in the guest bedroom;
she doesn’t want any
lights on when I read at
night and she doesn’t
want the dogs in the
bed. I have to keep
sneaking into our
bedroom to see if she
needs any water or ice.
I’d take her
temperature, but she has
one of these new things
that go on your forehead
or in your ear that I
can’t operate. All of
this creeping in and out
of the rooms has got
everything out of order.
This has got the three
of us (me and two dogs)
completely off kilter.
We are totally lost and
confused when this
happens.
I knew she was really
sick yesterday when I
went to the store for
some things to make
soup. I bought her some
chocolate, some soft
drinks, some cookies and
best of all some peanut
butter cups. She refused
to eat any of them. This
is not normal. I should
have taken her to the
emergency room right
then and there but she
told me not to worry.
Worry? How can I help
but worry? My entire
universe has been turned
completely upside down.
First off, I’m not
allowed to load the dish
washer since I have
failed at what kind of
soap to use (I do know
not to use liquid hand
soap ever again) and I
have never figured out
how to put the dishes
and glasses inside in
some kind of order that
only woman are aware of.
How do they know this
stuff? I just put cups
and saucers and plates
and bowls wherever there
seems to be room, but I
keep hearing that this
is not the correct way
to do this, so I just
don’t try. Yesterday I
did load the machine up
since I was running out
of room on the
countertops. I haven’t
checked this morning to
see how they came out,
but I didn’t hear
anything clanking
together last night when
I turned it on so that
must be a good thing,
unless they were packed
in there too tightly.
I don’t even try to load
the washer and dryer; I
just keep putting on
clean shorts and socks
and hope I have enough
to last out this session
of the plague or
whatever she’s
contracted. If she
doesn’t start perking up
by the end of the week,
I might have to call one
of those temporary maid
services to come in and
help me get through the
weekend.
Have I mentioned the bed
in the other room? I had
forgotten about it, but
that thing has about
forty throw pillows of
all sizes on top of it.
I tried taking them off
a couple of years ago
and then putting them
back the way I thought
they should go, but I
failed at that as well.
She didn’t say anything,
but I could tell she
didn’t approve of my
arrangement. I should
have taken a picture and
then I would have
something to go by.
Better yet, I should
just leave well enough
alone and not try these
tasks; men just don’t
seem to be capable of
some things. I guess I
could sleep on the
floor, but I don’t think
I’d like it. The dogs
wouldn’t either.
Besides when it comes to
pain and sickness, I
believe the Bible sums
it up in Genesis
3/16…where it says: "To
the woman He," being
God, "…said, “I will
greatly multiply your
pain…” So, in my mind
that just proves that
women are destined to
have more pain and are
probably better at
dealing with it than men
are.
Anyway, I’m just kidding
around, I know how to
take care of myself and
am really quite self
sufficient when it comes
to taking care of
myself. I can cook soup,
make toast and operate a
can opener, what else is
there to know?
I must make a note to
myself to remind me to
ask her how much coffee
she puts in the pot for
me. Mine is terrible, I
sure hope she gets well
in a hurry.
Comments got to
www.pearyperry.com.
Complaints go nowhere.
