I tried to talk the old lady into going on a camping trip this weekend, but she could only think of reasons why we shouldn’t go. Consequently, I found myself at home today when she was in one of her “we gotta get going” moods. These moods generally come on weekends and involve a frenzy of activity. Sometimes, the frenzy involves rather routine things, like going to the grocery store, the cleaners, the hardware store and other such places. Other times the frenzy involves things that you never really want to find time to do … like cleaning the basement or garage, or washing windows. [The old lady wants me to note that I never cleaned the basement.]
I must admit that I was fortunate enough to be able to sleep in this morning. But I had to get up at 7 am to take our beloved dog outside so she can maintain her Monday-Friday schedule of relieving herself and having breakfast. I think I was permitted to sleep in because of that kindness. In other words, “I earned it.”
Being allowed to sleep in does not, of course, buy you immunity from any “we gotta get going” activities. Today I was asked to wash the windows on the front of the house. (Fortunately, just the first floor windows. I am afraid of heights.) The old lady said she would get together all of the stuff I needed — all I had to do was wash the windows.
Well I thought this was a reasonable request under the circumstances (it could have been much worse, believe me). So I sat down in the living room to read the days news. Next thing I know, the old lady is on the front porch washing the windows. What in the heck?!
I jump to my feet and sprint out to the front porch where I confront her about what she was doing. She lied by saying that she only wanted me to wash the windows that were out of reach. (I knew it was a lie because I know she could reach the upper windows with the ladder she had with her.) Anyway I jumped in to do my job.
Now here’s what really galls my preserves (credit to Grandma Anna for that expression). Its one thing to ask me to do something. Its another thing altogether to start telling me how to do it. I am using three paper towels folded into a size that fits my hand to wash the window. The genius old lady doesn’t seem to think that is the best way to do it and starts telling me how she does it. (Like I care.) Anyway, I tell her matter of factly that if she wants it done her way she is going to have to do it herself. Then she suggests that she thinks that her way does a better job than mine … basically, I’m not doing a good job.
Well, good thing I was finished with the job or she would have been finishing it herself. How can you claim that you would have done a better job than a perfect job?
Now guess what? She wants me to be her dwiver!!!
Thanks for reading and stay tuned.