It’s been a joy to have our daughter visiting from Montana. She flew in to help out after my wife’s knee surgery.
She spent an entire week with us and she’s been a welcome , handling any number of tasks including cooking, cleaning, shopping and doing the laundry.
Sadly, she finally had to return home, which meant I was left with the chores.
Some, I insist, are pointless.
Like making the bed each morning.
It’s an unreasonable task since there’s no one around to see it.
And if I left the bed the way it was, it means easy access at night.
But my wife argues people do show up, like when my son’s mother-in-law surprised us with homemade soup and fresh-baked bread.
Her visit became another argument for why the bed needs to be made.
But I found a simpler solution was to just close the bedroom door.
But that was only a minor adjustment compared to all the cleaning she has me do, especially the vacuuming, a routine, I contend, she’s rather obsessive about.
Then there’s driving her to all the medical appointments. I reminded one of her physicians that doctors used to make house calls.
Everyone had a good laugh.
We make repeated visits to the surgeon so he can check her progress and offer his counsel.
He wants her to make sure she continues to be mobile and suggests she completes a series of exercises he prescribed and also takes daily walks around the house.
“Just be sure to have your cane with you,” he told her.
“What if, instead of a cane,” I queried, “she walked around with a vacuum cleaner?”
I thought it was a reasonable question, but the drive home was unusually long and quiet.
But the bed issue and the vacuuming are just minor concerns compared to the work involved in cooking and dish-washing.
That’s why I’ve arranged to have our meals delivered.
I go online, look up local restaurants, make sure they deliver, peruse their menus, select my choices, input my credit card, and dinner shows up a half-hour later.
With paper plates and plastic utensils.
The surgeon said he was counting on me to assist my wife with the exercises and also help her make a number of adjustments to what had been her normal routine.
It meant convincing her to maintain her workout, making sure she takes her meds, and weaning her off the Hallmark Channel.
That way, I’d have a better chance of watching the big game on the widescreen.
“The Super Bowl is where you can get to see the quarterbacks throw amazing es,” I said, “watch great running backs score miraculous touchdowns, see fabulous wide receivers make circus catches, and enjoy repeated close-ups of Taylor Swift.”
She made no promises, but I’m optimistic about her progress and which TV I’ll be watching.
It’s been a long and difficult struggle, but I can honestly say, after several weeks and much sacrifice, I’m finally recovering from her surgery.
Erdos is a freelance humor columnist. him at [email protected].
