P is for Refrigerator

Oh, thank God! We’re finally stopping. I should have known better than to let Mike drive. Before we left home, he assured me that we could stop and see the sights at any time. “Just let me know if you see anything that looks interesting!” Yeah, right.

We’d gone about two hundred miles before I thought a stretch of the legs would be in order. “Hey, there’s a wildlife park up ahead; why don’t we get a few pictures?”

“Mmm, no. I want to get there before dark.”

Sigh. Fine. We kept going.

Some time later, my twenty-ounce coffee caught up with me. “Uh, Hon? Any chance we could find a gas station?”

“I’ll look, but I want to get there before dark.”

“There’s one!”

“Too far off the road.”

“Twenty yards is NOT too far off the road!”

“I want to get there before dark.”

I gritted my teeth. “My kidneys just blew up. Could we at least stop for some paper towels?”

“Very funny. I want to—“

“Get there before dark, I know, I know.”

He smiled, knowing I would forgive him anything. “We’ll stop on the way back and look at everything then.” Hah! As if. The last time he pulled that line, we ended up driving south for two states and coming back via a completely different route.

I alternated window-gazing sulks with rounds of sock knitting. I’ve heard of people who can finish entire sweaters on road trips, but I’m not one of them. For one thing, I tend to get carsick if I spend too much time staring into my lap. For another, the roads we always end up on are atrocious. I’m just as likely to get a swift poke in the eye from a needle as manage a few respectable stitches.

By the time we fetched up in front of the hotel, the only sight I wanted to see was a shower. I was in the middle of a nice neck stretch when I chanced to spy the sign advertising the various hotel amenities. Along with free “Wi-Fi”, there was a Jacuzzi and in-room refrigepator. Wait, what?

“Mike, look at the sign. They have refrigepators here!”

“RefrigePATORS?”

“Yeah. Must be for keeping your head cool.”

That did it. In a flash, Mike had jumped up on the low retaining wall that ran along the length of the parking lot and was letting loose in best medicine-show fashion.

“Step right up, folks, and witness the amazing refrigepator! Keep your cool and please your pate in the privacy of your own room! Yes, friends, you can toss in your toupees, wad up your wigs, and heave in your hairpieces. The super handy-dandy refrigepator will dress your tresses with the cool, cool breezes of Old Man Winter. Soothe your scalp in the sultry summertime with the one and only refrigepator!”

A couple on their way to the check-in office paused. After a brief but heated discussion, they decided to rent a room anyway.

“Come down, nut job. I want a shower before dark.”

Mike grinned, then hopped down and reached for our bags.


By Penny Dreadful

A Change of Focus

The pile of papers from the desk was now spread out across the table, leaving only a small window of workspace. Sheila sighed as she surveyed the mess. Summer was supposed to be a time of fun, of memory making. But all those spontaneous camping trips and meals out, long bike rides and road trips made it quite difficult - no, make that impossible - to keep up with the daily running of a home.

Thanks to her husband's playful scheduling, the mortgage payment was late, the bank statement was unreconciled, and the bill drawer was full. Laundry was threatening to take over the basement, dust bunnies were staging a coup on the kitchen floor and the hamster cage smelled like a neglected barn. So much to do - and now the kids were hovering around her, hungry little nestlings begging for food.

Sheila got the kids a snack, fixed herself a cup of tea, then sighed again and tried to focus on the bills. Focus. That's what she needed to do. Outside birds sang and the sweet breeze drifted through the windows. A hummingbird zipped up to the feeder on the porch. Then another male bird appeared and the two engaged in fast paced battle for territory. Suddenly, the pleasant scents from outside were clouded by the hamster cage "aroma". Sheila wrinkled her nose and pattered over the stove to reheat the kettle. She'd downed a whole cup of tea and had only managed to write two checks!

She plopped down in front of the computer while the water heated. After she checked her email she could design the invitations for her inlaws' 50th wedding anniversary. She steeled her will to stay focused. Focus. No social networks or blogging or forums. Just the necessities. Be productive. Catch up!

The phone rang. Sheila was toying with fonts for the invites, so she let the answering machine take the call.

"Hi Sheila, did you miss my message earlier this week? I hadn't heard back from you about the tea party today. It's at noon in the garden gazebo. I'm really hoping you and your girls can come. It'll be really sparse without you!"

Tea Party? No, Sheila told herself. Today you are staying home and focusing. Today you are getting things done.

But, the garden gazebo...It was so beautiful there. Breezy, fresh, cool and green. And the weather was so lovely, it did seem a shame to be all cooped up in the house.

No!! FOCUS! Sheila spun her chair toward the table and started a check writing frenzy. She just slapped the last stamp on the last envelope when both her girls slumped into the room. They were bored. They were hungry. They were whiny. Sheila looked from her precious little ones to the paperwork and back again.

To heck with bills, she thought, let's make some memories!

"Girls," she smiled, "Go put on some fancy dresses and hats. We're going to a tea party!"

By Penny Dreadful