Everyone does it. Okay — I hope everyone does it. You’re holding something that’s hot or dripping or sticky, etc. Your destination is far away so, being a member of the intelligent, adaptable human species, you quickly make a detour. The pan doesn’t make it back on the stove, but it gets to the sink. The broken light bulb ends up in the bedroom garbage can, not the kitchen one. No biggie, right? It all gets to the same destination eventually.

Well, last week we did the annual Christmas tree take down. On second thought, let’s not use the word “we,” because in fact, I did all of it. To be fair, he did offer assistance but the only thing I felt I needed him for was muscle to haul it outside. So after I spent the afternoon stripping it and I vacuumed the rainforest of needles left behind, I then proceeded to put away the last item: the tree stand. Despite my absent-minded care over the past month, the thing miraculously still had water in it. As I made my way to the kitchen sink, water sloshed around and the legs of the stand started falling off.

For those of you who haven’t been to my apartment, it is a bowling alley. Not literally, of course (though that would be cool). It’s just set up as a long, endless stretch of rooms. And of course, the living room is on one end, kitchen at the very opposite end. So like every other person would, I located and took a detour. The bathroom is much closer.

It was genius, actually. The tub gave me much more room to suds it up and leave to soak. My small kitchen sink would have barely held the tree stand. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it last year and made a mental note for future Christmases.

Fast forward: We had a lovely rest of our day, enjoying the extra space the tree left and that fresh, breathable feel of a newly-cleaned living room. All was well — bla, bla, bla. But then, when showering that night, I nearly tripped and fell in the tub. I don’t consider myself clumsy and the shower was pristine — I’d just given it a good cleaning. As I walked around preparing for bed, the ball of my right foot kept catching on the carpet, sticking to every piece of dirt and lint imbedded in the fibers. What in the world…? It took me a minute, but eventually I collapsed on our bed giggling, and looked over at my confused husband.

“John, if you can get by not showering for a day or two, that might be best.”

I defended that he would have done the same thing in my stead but he still maintains he would have known better. Regardless, next year I’ll just balance it all the way to the kitchen.

One comment

  1. nail polish remover or rubbing alcohol if still on the farm we would just use a little gasoline on a paper towel. Grandma

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