While I’m in Erie sleeping until eleven, shopping at Gabe’s for $4 dollar shirts, seeing movies, catching up with friends, and wolfing Wegman’s cheese spreads, my husband is at home eating Baja Fresh alone in a cold dark room.Well, maybe he has the lights on. And the heat. Maybe. BUT, he is all by his lonesome for the week.
Usually, I joke with him that being a bachelor means all-he-can-eat Tony’s pizza, peeing with the seat up until his heart’s content, not having to pretend to listen to me nag him, and drinking beer that flows like the Nile. But not this time. Not only is Grey working every day, but he’s also spearheading our home-selling efforts. This means that any time, with only 15 minutes notice potential buyers and their real estate agents can pop by for a showing. Consequently, poor Grey has to constantly keep our house spotless.
Yet, as much as I miss him, and feel sorry he has to be doing this, I am also happy that I’m not! Between watching Ollie and trying to do my column, keeping things tidy is impossible. I remember as a kid watching that old movie Love Story with Ali McGraw and Ryan O’Neal and thinking, “Oh how nice!” when they said the famous quote, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” But now, as an adult, I realize, that line is total crap. However, after a week of Grey working his fingers to the bone, I’d like to alter that line to fit my own purposes. Indeed: “Love means never having to unload the dishwasher. Or scrub the tub. Or sweep the dust bunnies…Thanks, honey!
Can’t wait to see you, Grey!!!!