Grand Slam Communication
The Grown Son is a little annoyed at all of the quarantine graduation hoopla.
He didn’t want to go through his own graduation ceremony.
I forced the issue.
He participated grudgingly and only at my insistence.
And now he resents his missed opportunity.
If only he had graduated in a quarantine year…
Sorry, Kid.
I’ll check with your calendar when the next pandemic is unleashed.
Maybe we can work it into your schedule more favorably.
We had watermelon recently.
If you don’t have diabetes, you won’t understand the glory of watermelon.
It is a super high-carb fruit, so we hardly ever eat it.
I only bought a little slab.
I didn’t buy the whole melon.
Because we would have eaten it all.
And it’s really, really, really not good for us.
But oh, it was delicious.
I will dream about that watermelon all summer.
While I’m not eating watermelon.
Every day this week, rain has been predicted.
Every day this week, the weather has remained dry.
Today I finally decided to water my vegetable garden.
It can’t wait any longer for the rain.
It was when I approached the gate to access the hose that I saw it.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
I was horrified.
Rat poop!
On the fence!
Rats have touched the very fence that I have to touch to access the hose!
Ewww.
The Husband, however, was kind of happy.
Over the years, he has devised a fool-proof method for dealing with rats.
Bob is very proud of his disgusting achievement.
Whatever.
Just get rid of the rats.
Ewww.
The Grown Son couldn’t remember the word for the end piece of bread.
He called it the stump.
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
And then I decided that “stump” is so much more descriptive than “heel.”
I have now renamed the end piece of bread.
I will notify Webster’s dictionary.
In the interest of not being pathetic and dependent, I asked Bob to show me how to mow the lawn.
Last week he showed me, and this week I did it myself.
I know that my rows were not up to the razor-straight standards that he demands.
Some of the rows were downright wobbly.
All I could think of was that scene in True Detective where Woody Harrelson gets up in Matthew McConaughey’s face and snarls at him threateningly, “You don’t mow another man’s lawn.”
I’m a little concerned.
If I’m lucky, Bob will say, “Nice job,” with false sincerity.
And then he’ll never let me near the lawn mower again because he can’t trust me to do it right.
I can only hope
I told the Grown Son that I don’t like his use of the term “Karen.”
It’s insulting.
Our next-door neighbor is Karen.
And she’s lovely.
The Grown Son confirmed that next-door Karen is not a Karen.
And neither am I.
He assured me, however, that I am still annoying, even if I’m not a Karen.
By the time he got through his long-winded, backhanded compliment, I had stopped listening.
I had also stopped caring.
Does that make me a Karen?
My vegetable garden is sprouting.
Is it a coincidence that this is happening on the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death?
Is it a sign?
No.
I planted the garden last week so of course it is sprouting this week.
Still, it’s nice to see signs of life on this somber anniversary.
I’m not hoarding.
I am trying to plan my groceries so I don’t have to go to the store so often.
I’m trying to stay ahead of the shopping.
My family is oblivious to my efforts.
This is why we have three opened jars of salsa.
Two opened bags of English muffins.
And several opened packages of cheese.
In the interest of not having to lift a finger, they put empty boxes back in the pantry.
And dishes with one bite remaining back in the fridge.
I may have found another inciting incident.
I had words with the Grown Son about housekeeping standards.
He shared his own wise household hints with me.
Apparently his short stint in a bachelor apartment has made him an expert.
I very politely reminded him that he is in my home.
And we will be keeping house up to my standards.
I may have been slightly more harsh than “very polite.”
We reached an amicable compromise.
We’ll do it my way.
I washed the kitchen floor.
I told the family to stay off of it for half an hour.
You would have thought their world had come to an end.
Keep in mind it was 10:30 in the morning.
And everyone had already eaten breakfast.
Please say a prayer for my family during this very difficult time in their lives.