My poor husband Chip has been the subject of many of my posts. He is a good sport about it so I will take some liberty once again, at his expense.
I had a friend years ago who told me how her husband Michael ‘couldn’t close the deal’. Now before your minds wander to Fifty Shades, let me explain. She told me how she walks throughout her house and sees the table set, but the cabinets open and the napkin dispenser empty: close the deal. She said he takes a shower and leaves clothes on the floor and the water dripping: close the deal.
Chip fails on closing the deal when work stress gets high and his mental bandwidth is stretched to the max. This past week or so he has been dealing with diverticulitis and has, let’s say, been distracted.
He picks up the dry cleaning and leaves it in the car for two days: close the deal Chip.
He eats the breakfast I beg him to eat so he feels better and leaves the yogurt cup on the table: close the deal Chip.
He knows the drill to make the kids lunches the night before when I am at Zumba and it’s half done, or he asks me “what do I do again?”: close the deal Chip.
He has left food in the car in the heat; a case of wine in car in 30 degree weather; Christmas party invitations in the back seat for weeks and the car door wide open in the garage, garage door open all night long: please close the deal Chip.
At least he never lost one of the kids but he did lock Amelia in her car seat, in the car, with the keys when she was two.
It’s easy for me to sit here and pass judgement as I, of course, always close the deal. After all, I am in menopause and they say the lack of estrogen has an affect on memory. Once again, that’s my story and I am sticking with it.