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| Him & Her - April 2004 |
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Him & Her:
I have now become her manservant. Every thing she wants that is out of reach, and needless to say, everything is, I have to get it for her. “Get me a cup of coffee” she instructs, “You don’t expect me to walk to the kitchen with this toe” she reminds me. “Please get that phone” she barks, “You know I’ll never make by the fourth ring, not with this toe” she reminds me. “I can’t find the clicker, would you change the channel, I can’t do it myself…” Yea, I know, the toe. She asks me to inspect it about four times a day. “Look, it now has shades of yellow, it still kills, don’t you feel sorry for me” she asks. I try to tell her how awful I feel but that simply is not convincing enough. “When you had your rotator cuff surgery I waited on you hand and foot” she reminds me, “Now it’s my turn.” She tells me it makes her toe feel better if I sit with her and watch television. So I now sit with her and the toe for hours. I’ve watched so many episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond that I’m actually enjoying the show. I’ve warmed up to Imus In The Morning, and have become absorbed in some of those movies on Lifetime For Women. I pour her coffee, fetch snacks, tend to the dogs and stop by the house at lunch to make sure she is not in need of something else. She informs me that it
will probably be several weeks before she can mow the lawn so I guess I’m
going to have to bite the bullet on that one. She tells everybody she knows
about her misfortune. Even the kids call just about every day for a toe
report. I thought women were supposed to be more tolerant of pain then men? How bad can a broken toe be compared to childbirth? On Mother’s Day each of the kids stopped by to visit the toe. We have taken to talking to the toe, asking how it’s feeling today. We have nick named her Little Black Toe and suggested she audition for the re-make of Dances With Wolves. I even made reference to the appendage in my card. The first words from Amanda out in Tucson were, “How’s Mom’s toe?” I’m waiting for President Bush to give us a friendly call just to get a current update. The other day several women stopped me at Stop & Shop to ask about the toe. One advised that soaking in Epsom Salts would help, while another suggested some ointment that I can’t even pronounce. People are stopping by my office to ask for a medical update on the toe. Somebody asked me if I intend to attend evening political meetings. One guy even said “Are you able to get toe clearance?” A mutual friend of ours chastised me for going to the Planning Board meeting. “You left the toe unattended for politics?” She gave me a disgusted look and stalked off. Hillary was right. It takes a village. I never thought it would take a toe to show me.
The toe speaks: I got hurt when she was on her way into the bedroom to put away the clothes of the old guy that lives with her. The stack was so high she couldn’t see where she was going, and that’s when it happened. Boy, did that hurt. I don’t know why she works so hard. I always tell her, “Why don’t we just take a walk outside”, but she says the grass is too high because he won’t cut it and I could get bitten by a snake. She’s so thoughtful that way. On Mother’s Day, he brought home lobsters and steamers but he wanted her to cook them. Now I don’t cook because her fingers do all that, but even I know that all he had to do was boil some water. “What do I do?” he said. Thinking only of me, she sat right there on the couch with her feet up and talked him through it. Whew! was I grateful. That man is helpless without us. Eric King, a wonderful family friend, surprised her by mowing the lawn and she and I were finally able to take a walk in the soft grass. I love walks, but she never really has the time because the old guy always needs her to do something that involves me. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of glad I broke because it’s the only rest I’ve had in a long time, and I was getting sick and tried of running downstairs to the washer and dryer and to the barn for her tools. The dogs are always stomping on me and that Doberman is plenty heavy, let me tell you. I’m feeling a little better now, but I hope she doesn’t wear shoes anytime soon because I’m not ready for that. I just want to spend some quality time with her before she’s forced to overwork me some more. What we need is a nice hot bath, a glass of scotch, and the clicker until I am completely healed, and who knows when that will be. |
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HER:
You don’t realize how much you need each and
every one of your toes until one of them is broken, misshapen, purple, and
hurting. Once the pain of the first day or so subsided I could walk on a
flat surface, but when I happened to step on one of his stray M&M peanuts on
the floor, I thought I’d scream. Shoes were not an option. But rather than
bore you with my version of events, I thought I’d let my precious toe tell
you how it was.