If we were having coffee, we’d probably be talking about the weather.
“It’s really rainy today, right?”
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that my dog didn’t want to go for walkies in this weather. The poor, old beast has never liked rain. Give him snow and he is spry as a pup again. But he has never liked getting his paws wet. And with his hips giving him trouble he only went outside long enough to “do his business.” That meant I could get in a 2,000 step walk without him slowing me down.
If we were having coffee, I’d complain about going grocery shopping in the rain. Philip and I went to two different stores. Unlike Roscoe, he is all about puddles. He jumped in as many in the parking lots at both stores as he could before I could catch him.
The first store is a local chain that offers a service where they send your bagged groceries out to a drive-through pick up lane. That meant Philip and I only got drenched getting to and from the car. Our second stop, however, was Aldi. That meant not only did I have to deal with cut-throat Saturday morning bargain hunters swooping in front of me while I waited my turn at the dairy case, I also got drenched loading the groceries I had to bag myself into my trunk. And soaked some more returning my car to retrieve my quarter.
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you my coat is still drying in the basement. What is no longer in the basement is the insect that stung me this morning. Philip had been playing down there and came to get me. He led me to the combination ceiling fan/light. I looked up and noticed one of the cords looped over a globe. I thought Philip had messed with it and wanted me to fix it. When I grabbed it, I felt a sharp pain. I though the chain was hot from the lightbulb. Then I saw the a paper wasp buzzing at the window. That’s what Philip wanted me to get.
If we were having coffee, I would want to say the sting hurt like a mother****** but then I would remember my manners and mind my language. I’d tell you I put a baking soda paste on as my finger swelled. Then I tried to type one-handed and Google if I should go to urgent care for treatment. By the time we were ready to leave, the pain had subsided.
Worried that Philip might get stung, too, I found the wasp later in the day and killed it. I have no remorse.
If we were having coffee I’d asked, “Did you see the lightning?” and then say maybe it’s best to head home. This has been enough excitement for one rainy Saturday.
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