I call Rick today at work with a very pressing matter and he is all like, “I’ve got two shows to anchor and I’m still preparing – what’s going on?”
He sounds super busy and distracted so I promise him this will only take 2 minutes of his time. Or 45 minutes. You can’t put time limits on important life discussions.
“We have a shower liner issue,” I explain, expecting that he will really listen up now that he understands the gravity of the situation.
“Ok,” he says.
“We need a new liner for the shower. But because it’s that weird Victorian bathtub, the liner I bought is too long. So I went back to Bed, Bath & Beyond to exchange it but all the liners are the same length. You can’t buy a shorter one. So we can either use the long one and see if it’s annoying or we can shorten it. But do we really want to spend the money to shorten it, when the shelf life of a shower liner isn’t very long? What do you think?”
“Umm…,” he says.
I’m not getting much response so he is either mulling this over or reading up on the challenges facing General Petraeus in Afghanistan and the new economic numbers. It’s hard to gauge. I now realize the importance of the video phone.
“Couldn’t we shorten the liner ourselves? Don’t we have a sewing machine?” he asks. Oh my gosh – I can’t believe I’ve been able to keep him on the phone this long and he’s actually brainstorming about this!
“Well, yes, we have a sewing machine.” It’s a relic from the first season of “Project Runway” when I absolutely, positively was going to start designing and sewing my own clothes but then lost my sewing mojo when I realized I could just buy clothes.
“But I don’t remember how to use the sewing machine anymore,” I explain.
Thankfully, he does not point out that it’s a huge waste of money to buy a sewing machine and then have no ability to use it and instead says, “Well, maybe we could just pin it up for something. Honey, I don’t know. I really have to go.”
And he clearly means: “I really could care less what you do with the liner but I’m trying to sound supportive because I know you’re up all night with the twins, completely sleep deprived and I don’t want to send you over the edge by being callous about the liner issue.
“Ok, no problem.” I let the poor guy get off the phone so he can actually work.
And since I’ve already dedicated way too much time to a shower liner (the buying, the almost returning and then the discussing), I just put it up. I’m done. If anyone wants to shorten it, I’ll give you my address.