The first day of Summer was the other
day, from an astronomical perspective. We have already reached 90
degrees, with a zillion percent relative humidity a couple of times;
so from a meteorological perspective a calendar date is somewhat
ho-hum.
At times such as this, writers extol
the merits, joys, and delights of the season. This ain't one those.
Recently, I have been making some
observations. Oh, I know, there are the usual run-of-the-mill
observations we all make. Such as cats chase birds, dogs chase cats,
angry cat-owners chase dogs. Things like when the needle on the fuel
gauge drops about a quarter inch below the “E”, your vehicle will
soon cease to function. You know, the little things such as testing
15 year old black powder by pouring some into a small pile and
proceeding to drop a lit match on top, producing a POOF of flame and
smoke. Perhaps the singed eye-brow look will make a come back soon.
(NOTE TO SELF: there is no expiration date on black powder).
These are just the normal observations of Life.
I have been noticing some BIGGIES.
For example, did you know people with
OCD tend to do things in a certain manner? I am OCD, and never
noticed this until grocery shopping one Saturday with my Lovely
Bride.
As we meandered aimlessly about the
store, placing various items in our cart, I was making a concerted
effort to have some semblance of order. You know, the fresh produce
over here, the eggs and other dairy go there, canned items have their
place, cereals here... a very simple, straight forward approach.
What does the woman do?
She grabs stuff from the shelves or the
freezer section and chucks it anywhere!
Good
Grief! I was appalled to see her toss a bag of frozen peas right
on top
of a bunch of bananas! Then, without a moment's care or concern, she
plopped a bag of frozen broccoli on the peas!
Frantically, I moved these intruders to their proper space, when-WHAM-
a box of waffles lands on the canned tomatoes!
My word, our cart was transformed from order to utter chaos within
the length of the freezer section! Frozen fish for making dog-food
was nestled by the butter. Mixed vegetables were cuddling with the
cottage cheese. Somehow the London broil had slipped its moorings
with the other meat and was getting cozy with a bunch of curly
parsley.
Thankfully, the eggs were spared these indignities, being nestled in
the kid's seat. They and the blueberries gazed upon the turmoil below
with a sympathetic “there but for the Grace of God” expression.
I abandoned all attempts to restore order somewhere near the deli. I
forced myself to repress the disturbing images; which is a classic
coping mechanism, knowing the check-out line would offer a chance to
set things aright.
I simply trailed LB, all the while in a near catatonic state. I
cringed upon witnessing the atrocity of bathroom tissue being plopped
atop the eggs and berries. I agonized in silence for the peaches when
a miscreant jar of Vap-O-Rub tumbled upon them.
Finally, the check-out lanes beckoned; gleaming with their promise of
Hope, Order and Decorum. Like the New World must have appeared to
Columbus, they danced upon my sight.
With a great sense of relief, I began to happily arrange items in
their proper spots; produce with produce (subdivided by type), cans
with cans, frozen items with their kin and so on. I only regret
there not being time enough to have all the can labels facing the
same way. But....
Reality descended upon me. THUMP!! THUMP! BANG!! My Lovely Bride
was-get this now- TOSSING stuff all OVER the moving belt!! I gave her
an imploring look while whispering “Please, I can do it.”
Our
private moment was shattered by the most grating of laughs. Looking
up, I saw a Neanderthal man actually encouraging her! “Har-har-har!
There you go, Lady! Just throw that bleep
on
there! Har-har-har!” Good grief.. talk about waving red in front of
a bull! She giggled, all the while commencing to render my neatly
arranged belt to a state of total dis-organization.
I could only stand by in stunned silence. I liken it to seeing a
train-wreck, you don't want to watch, but you are too mortified to
look away. I stifled a sob as canned good mingled with the lettuce
and frozen fish.
Finally, we loaded our bags and left this chamber of horrors behind
us. We headed to the safety and comfort of our home. I tried to
ignore the cries of outrage and despair emanating from the bags in
the back of the SUV.
I am making fairly rapid progress now. I can talk about the incident
without hyperventilating . The prognosis is positive.
My therapist feels I will be able to enter a grocery store again
before Summer is over.
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