A humor series on navigating this difficult time
I’m sharing another installment of a humor series from my friend Pam Goldman, centering on a woman named Ramona, who tries to help… in her own way. If you’re new to this series: Here’s the previous installment.
My husband K. and I have thankfully now double-dosed on the vaccine. Done and done. Or are we? Dr. Fauci and his wife have been vaccinated but they are still not planning to see their grown children in person. He prefers holding back until he can safely fly into their vaccinated arms.
We will take his example under advisement though I may have to be carried off in a straight jacket if I don’t see my kids and grandkids by the Ides of March. That would be March 15, according to the ancient Romans, the date for paying off debts. I believe the former administration owes all of us, big time.
Ted Cruz didn’t seem to have any qualms about being with his kids last week, as long as he could use them as cover for his flight from Texas to Cancun, leaving his constituents on the frigid ground to warm themselves in cars. In his words, his intention was to merely “accompany my daughters,” as if recruited by their teacher in search of a parent volunteer for a class trip to the five-star Ritz Carlton on a tropical beach.
Meanwhile, way to go AOC! In light of the crisis, she jetted to Texas, volunteered at a Houston food bank and spearheaded an effort that raised more than $4 million for storm relief.
(By the way, if you’d like to donate to help our Texas neighbors, go online to cnn.com/donate to Texas.)
On the home front, K. and I have moved on from our only two topics of conversation, food and garbage/recyclables; now, we only talk about food. This evolved over the period of almost a year without eating in restaurants. When we’re sleeping we don’t have the opportunity to discuss breakfast so breakfast is generally an ad hoc affair, K. finishing up his yogurt, banana and granola as I enter the kitchen for my own Kashi Go Lean (akin to birdseed).
K. will text me from his upstairs office around 11 a.m. to get the conversation going about lunch.
“We have any bacon?” will pop up on my iPhone. Passive-aggressive ask for a BLT. I take out the B, the L and the T from the fridge, throw 2 slices of whole wheat bread in the toaster oven, grab the Mayo, all done, in my opinion, with appropriate spousal resentment. (We’d love someone to do this for the females of the species, right?)
Around 4pm K. grazes (in his mind) for a snack. I get a text.
“We have any cantaloupe or pineapple or strawberries?”
Passive-aggressive ask: “Can you make me a fruit salad?”
I whip out a can of Del Monte’s Fruit Salad and a can opener. Just kidding. I dump the pre-cut cantaloupe, pineapple and strawberries from their plastic containers (big hug to whomever cuts it up at Stop n’ Shop) into a glass bowl and deliver it upstairs to K. “Here’s your home-made fruit salad.”
Around 5 p.m. I receive the dinner text, “Can you see if the ground beef I took out of the freezer this morning and left on the kitchen counter has thawed?” Passive-aggressive ask: “Can you make the hamburger patties?”
If you think I’m complaining you could not be more incorrect. I’m kvetching, which is different. It’s complaining on steroids. Why have things not really changed since the Pleistocene Era, 2.58 million years ago?
We plan not to see any of our friends in person until 2022. Dr. Fauci is saying we’ll probably need to wear masks until then so we prefer to socialize on ZOOM where we can actually see the faces of whomever the heck we’re talking to. Remember Flat Stanley? We now call our friends Flat Bob, Flat Maggie, Flat Ronnie, Flat Nancy, Flat Barbara.
I am not going for a cheap laugh now. Have you heard the commercial for Hello Tushy? I am not kidding. I heard Hello Tushy advertised on the car radio yesterday and when I got home I immediately googled it. It’s a real product that attaches to your toilet seat and sprays your tush when you’re done.
I wondered if Hello Tushy could be the apotheosis of innovation in the 21st century. Maybe I’m behind the times. Butt who knows? Maybe the creators are on a roll. All I know is I got all flushed in the cheeks when I heard how it works.
I have nothing further to say on the topic except I’m wiped out from it.
P.S. Please write in if you think I’ve been in the house too long.