Cream In My Tea & My Comb In Its PlaceWednesday, May 15, 2013
|Ahuehuete tree, El Paseo de los Filósofos|
Bosque de Chapultepec
I might attempt to shave one morning and the razor might be dull. I ask Rosemary and she will invariably say, “I bought some new blades for you. They are in the second drawer.”
My socks are lovingly joined, my boxer shorts folded neatly in a drawer. Rosemary has the uncanny talent of losing socks so after a few months there is a basket of orphan socks. This problem has mostly been solved by having purchased 10 pairs of identical socks at Mark’s Work Warehouse.
Rosemary does our finances, fills out our tax forms. And she is always there. What does she get in return?
I complain all the time. I complain that she nags me all the time. I complain that she does not eat well and unless I cook she will not eat properly. I complain that she does not sew so I have to sew on my buttons and hem my jeans. I complain that she takes my combs and loses all our scissors. I complain that she is nervous all the time and that means that I cannot be nervous. I complain that she will return in the evening and the next morning I will notice that car has no gas.
When she is away our phone conversations are so tender that thankfully phone sex has only been that. Had it been otherwise we would have at least a dozen children by now.
Plata (my cat), Casi-Casi (her cat) and I miss her lots because she is away. The house is uncommonly quiet even though Rosemary is quiet by nature.
When I add some cream to my tea tomorrow morning and perhaps get enough energy to go and buy milk I will know all that I lose, all that I do not have when Rosemary is not here. Our cats would concur.