Several months ago we received an invitation for a couples wedding shower for the son of a long time friend. In Jack’s World, wedding showers are for women and the bride and there oughta be a law against making men suffer like that. Men have the solemn obligation of hiring the stripper for the bachelor party and that’s it. I don’t know how I did it, but I dodged attending the shower. It must have been dump day or something else that was so important, I just couldn’t make it.
Whatever magic I had that time didn’t work this time because we got an invitation to a couples baby shower for the same people and I went last night. In case you’re counting, the parties were more than nine months apart. I kept telling Jean that wild horses couldn’t drag me to a baby shower, but she mustered up the strength and I didn’t have a chance. Now is the time, if I were talking with the guys, I would say I hated every minute of it and couldn’t wait to get out of there. But the truth is that I had a good time and got to talk to some friends that we don’t see much of in party settings. Luckily I found some good conversation right near the food table where I bellied up to the shrimp plate. We had another party to go to and had to leave just as the gift opening started. Darn!!
When we closed on the condo January 12th we agreed that we wouldn’t move until either the Green Street house or the cottage at Crooked Lake sold. In fact, brother Bob (aka Bobbie Butane) asked me as I was leaving Florida whether Jean would get me to move sooner rather than later. I told him that she hadn’t said a thing about it. Mistakenly, I made the offhanded comment to Jean that we should move soon and it would save having to clean up the Green Street house every time someone wanted to look at it, I could turn the thermostat up to a balmy 63 degrees, and we would get more than three channels on the TV. That’s all it took. Maybe it’s from my long race performances and maybe just ‘cuz she knows me too well, she can tell I don’t have much endurance and she can wear me down if she’s persistent enough.
Everybody that asks if we’ve moved yet, we tell that we won’t move ’til the weather breaks. It doesn’t make much sense to move when there is so much snow on the ground and the temperatures are so cold. Carrying things in and out and having to change from indoor shoes to outdoor shoes every time is for the birds. Well, tweet-tweet. I’m close to the breaking point and she’ll probably have me right where she wants me by the end of the week. My brain isn’t any better than a fish. I know there’s a hook under that worm and I bite anyway. What’s wrong with me? Don’t answer!
Just (Why Did I Come Back So Soon) Jack