Everybody has their faults, and I’m no exception. I wrote earlier about my husband’s stubbornness, but in our marriage, he often has the patience of Job. It’s required to put up with me!
I’m known for forgetting things. Typically, it’s where I left my keys or my glasses. Yes, they have their designated places, but if my hands are full when I walk in the door, or I get distracted or interrupted, then the search is on when I need them next. But if I’m concentrating on a task, the house could probably fall down around me, and I wouldn’t notice unless directly impacted.
My first week at my new job, I forgot my phone. It so happened that one of my coworkers who lives in the neighborhood was making a trip home, so she offered to pick it up. Hubby was home that day, so he had to locate it and put it where she could find it.
Last Friday, I had my phone but left my purse. My husband got home early from his job interview and offered to bring it to me. I let him off the hook and declined. I had forgotten it because I’d brought lunch in second bag (hence, I didn’t realize something was missing), and I didn’t feel he needed to waste the time and gas for the 50-mile round trip. But I sure appreciated the offer.
My worst recent blunder was the Sunday before July 4th. There were some sausages that needed to be cooked. He’d taken them out of the freezer the day before, but it had decided to rain, with thunder and lightning. (We don’t complain about rain around here!) I started the grill to warm it up and went back in the house to finish that week’s blog.
I kept finding typos and other things to fix. Finally, I sat back to breathe and looked at the clock. “Oh, (insert favorite word here; if I didn’t say it, I thought it)!”
Dashing out the back door, I saw the smoke and ran around to turn off the propane bottle. A cast aluminum Weber Q300, the grill itself was fine, if a little discolored. The plastic and metal stand it rests on didn’t fare so well. One corner of the frame melted, dropping the end tray and leaving the metal support for the grill sunk into melted plastic. The back part melted away in a rolling shape. The whole catawampus assembly now looks like a drunk put it together.
“Um, Babe? I screwed up,” I told my husband, who was drinking a beer in his man cave.
He came out to look at it. The thermometer on the lid was still at peak level (600 degrees). “Yep. You did a number on it. Guess I’d better go get the other one out of the trailer, if we’re gonna eat.” No screaming or yelling. I quit holding my breath.
He took a golf cart to retrieve the small Weber Q1200 (baby version of what I’d just messed up) out of the travel trailer he uses when working too far from home.
Once things cooled off, he looked at it again.
“I could just set it on one of the portable metal tables, but I’m not sure how to move the controls.” The controls are built onto the plastic frame.
Once everything was off and dinner eaten, I did some research. That particular model is discontinued. I can get replacement burners and grills, but the stand is not available. It would cost about $400 for an equivalent replacement.
“Do you want me to order you a new one? I could have it here Thursday.”
“No, let’s wait. The little one should be enough for us.”
“It’s not like we have big grilling parties anymore,” I agreed.
It’s still sitting there, a constant reminder every time I go in or out the kitchen door.
And he hasn’t said another word about it.