Period of Adjustment
Thu., April 20, 09:22 AM
I’m always amused when two sources come up with the same theme. First there was Kell.
For those who aren’t regular readers of my favorite Kevin and Kell, I’d better update the current story line. Kevin, who is a rabbit, has once again been asked by the local government (town council or whatever), to be the Easter Bunny this year and hide eggs. But Kevin is sick, and no other rabbits are available on such short notice. His wife, Kell, who is a wolf, offers to do it for him.
Kell dons some ears and the appropriate costume and sets about hiding the eggs, giving a loud wolf’s howl to warn off small egg eaters. The one larger predator who plans on eating the Easter Bunny is surprised to become prey; Kell enjoys a snack after her work.
Well, Kevin is feeling better Easter morning and thanks Kell for helping. But she says she got an unexpected pleasure from it. “For once,” she says, “I get to leave things lying around for others to pick up.” As Kevin says, a mother’s fantasy.
Certainly, I can relate. And then I found this:
Since last month I have been trying to formulate a more useful routine, with lots less stress. I had hoped that retiring would remove some stress, but Husband has been happy to fill in the gaps. He wears me out. It is tempting to let him just sleep all day, as he generally did when I was working.
However, considering that in six months or so he is going to have to make an appearance at a wedding (as well as a rehearsal!), I am trying to get him back into a human schedule. That is, he must get up in the morning for pills and breakfast; he must get up in the evening for pills and supper. I have to watch him take the pills, one by one, because he would happily throw them all away.
This takes a large chunk out of my morning. I waken him, and half an hour elapses before he’s sitting at the table. It’s not like he’s showering and dressing; he doesn’t do those without coercion. I can make his coffee, start his cereal and vacuum the carpet while I wait. I mean, he really takes a long time .
Everything is going slower for me anyhow. Part of that is frustration with my eyesight, and part of it is pure frustration with whatever I try to do. Y’know how it is when you make a list of tasks, and you keep finding things that have to be done in order to be ready to tackle the list? I feel as if I’m not accomplishing anything, I’m just running to keep up with myself.
Even with the meds, I think Husband’s health is deteriorating. Unbeknownst to me, he has been putting on weight. It wasn’t until last weekend, when his cousin came to visit, that he confessed that his pants don’t fit. (I have been buying him the same size shorts forever.) He wanted to receive guests in a bathrobe, with his belly hanging out. I enlisted U.D.’s aid, since I was ready to kill him, and she finally got him into a pair of unbuttoned trousers covered – sort of – with a roomy shirt. Afterwards, U.D. measured him in order to buy some pants online, so that he has something to wear to go shopping. His waist has increased at least eight inches!
(Y’know, U.D. presents a whole other list of constraints, but I have to say she had prevented me from murder on several occasions. And to think she’s the kid with the least patience!)
This is an ongoing story, and you will undoubtedly hear more. I just thought I’d let you know why I started to write on Sunday and couldn’t get around to posting until Thursday.
