My mother requested I write a blog today. She is the only person, other than my wife, who can request a blog and receive it. (That’s not completely accurate.)
With my wife on vacation, and me being the most boring bachelor of the next millennium, mom called wondering how I was doing. I said I was doing fine. Fine is a natural synonym for “miserable”, “terrible”, “dreadful” or “dead”. I was feeling all but the latter. It was quite clear, when answering her phone call, I wasn’t dead. That made her laugh. It is my genuine belief she wishes me to be alive.
She knew I was missing my wife and asked about our family.
Our family consists of two large dogs and an inherited cat I was hoping not to love when she strolled into our house. Well, for some odd reason, now I love her.
After our cat was catting around outside last night, I was pacing around as if one of my children may be dead or working at an ice plant or teaching middle school for the rest of his or her life. It was that stressful. Eventually, she showed up, and since I am currently a bachelor, I attempted to give her the ninth degree without someone shaking me and telling me, “Ben, cats don’t speak your language!”
All being written, she was safe, and because of the sweltering weather conditions, we all slept on the downstair’s couch. Lucy, our cat, hunkered in on my lap. It was very cute until she puked on my chest. Instead of getting angry, I thought of my mother who dealt with thirteen children doing the same thing for sixty years. Mom was probably just happy when we made it home. And, we all did. Amen.