Things are really bad, and I usually now get Barb out of bed every night, when I'm screaming in pain, but nonetheless, I do try to keep fit.
To the point where today, Barb had a stubborn juice-bottle that she asked me to open.
She asked, kind of rhetorically, "What will I do when you're gone?"
My response was, "Get a good pair of channel-lock pliers, some duct tape, and some JB Weld. That'll do it."
We can delve deep into this conversational exchange, but what's the point?
The juice-top lid was staying on,
and you had to ask for aid;
“When you're gone, what will I do?”
That, my dear, is what you said.
I understand the deep emotion
that doth lie behind this plaint;
not disrespecting your devotion,
don't make me what I ain't.
Get some channel-locking pliers,
duct-tape, and some JB Weld,
and you'll find that hell's own fires
can, with these, be distant-held.
I love you, dear but am a tool
that is, at end, replaceable.
Apologies to those who left comments that went unanswered. With the spring winds come long interruptions in internet service, and I've been really, really sick. Internet works in the wee hours, but I just can't anymore.
Music from Brad Paisley, with I'm Gonna Miss Her. Please click here if the video doesn't load on your device.