Thursday, July 10, 2014
Am I The Only Moron?
So, I was minding my own business on a Friday afternoon, working, driving my van, making money, having a good time, when my wife texts me. She doesn’t work on Fridays, but it isn’t unusual for her to text me any day. Apparently she is doing the laundry because she says, “You have ruined one of your new knit shirts.” I stare at the phone. I am working, so I could pretend I am so busy I don’t see this for, say, hours, and not respond. She knows better than this because I ALWAYS respond to her texts. Stupid me. I could pretend that someone stole my phone that speaks a foreign language and respond back accordingly. Nah. I’m screwed, so I do what every married guy would do, I text back. “What’s wrong with it?” Why did I do that? I should know better after all this time. It’s a good thing I’m out here and she’s back there. She must have her fingers poised over the keys because the answer is instantaneous. “You have bleach spots over the bottom of it. If you tuck in your shirt it won’t show.” So much for that, because I never tuck in my shirts. Now what do I say? I know what I did, and so does she, but simple words are never enough. I try anyway. “Sorry.” Seconds later. “Sorry, your ass.”
Let me back up a little. We have an in ground 16 by 32 foot swimming pool. This winter was very brutal as most of you know. It wasn’t good on pools either. In January we had a leak in our vinyl liner about 18 inches down and of course the water level suddenly dropped that much, pulling the winter cover down into the pool, along with all the debris, such as snow, leaves, grasses, etc. Not good. I couldn’t touch it in the middle of winter, so it set until I could, which was spring. We pulled the winter cover out of there and was greeted with a pool that looked like a pond, nice and green, complete with frogs. Our pool is surrounded with pretty ornamental grasses that grow four feet high, nice in the summer, not so hot when they are in your pool/pond.
Right about the time I began to get sick, I donned my fishing waders and went into my pond, lowered the level of the water, found the leak, and patched it. I then began the job of slowly removing the debris. I thought very seriously due to being sick of just forgetting it and stocking my pond with bass and fishing all summer. I kept going a little bit at a time and eventually got all the big stuff out. Then we talked with a guy we knew who worked on pools who told us to clear it using liquid chlorine. LOTS OF IT. Of course that is basically bleach. The first time I dumped in 20 gallons and turned on the pump. Wow! Cleared the water right up. I was able to look right to the bottom of our pool again to see 6 inches of pure silt along the complete bottom of the pool. That was early May. I would dip out with shovels and dip nets loads of silt. That would stir up the water where I couldn’t see again. I would add more chlorine and on I would repeat the process. I couldn’t do this every day because I had no energy due to being sick. What a great time. Anyway, when I would do this I would be in crappy clothes like a good boy.
Now we come back to the present. It was the end of the line on the pool. We had a clean pool. I had a clear bottom and it was just a little bit murky from the last bit of working with it. I had bought 4 gallons of chlorine. Everyday when I come home, even in the winter, I change into a pair of shorts, but I leave on the shirt I had been wearing all day. Yeah, bad move. Now, here’s the thing. If I’m going to cut the grass or work in the yard, I will change my shirt. I knew I was going to work on the pool and I didn’t change my shirt. I don’t know why. I guess I didn’t think I would get dirty. It’s the pool for crying out loud. It’s not like I was going to play in the dirt. Am I the only moron?
Then she texts me and says this. “I give up after 33 years of trying to train you to put on crap clothes.” Owww. Should I say something witty? It is after all my nature. I can’t resist. “Look at it this way, If I keep doing this, all my clothes will be crappy. It’ll be a lot easier to reach in and choose a shirt.” I didn’t rush home. You know, there are days she just doesn’t appreciate my sense of humor.
I have to finish this. Something about going to Kohls to shop for shirts.