It’s usually Mary who buys the Lotto tickets, her hope being, of course, to give houses to everyone within our extended family, but maybe I should pick the numbers this week, its having been a lucky one for me, bracketed by two raffle wins at the Our Fabulous Variety Show performance at the LTV Studios, and, soon after, by a grab-bag pick at a Kentucky Derby party of the winner-to-be, Mage.
Mary’s favorite going in was Tapit Trice, because it was a gray, and she likes grays. I picked that one out of the passed hat too, which prompted me to say, “Just stick with me, baby,” which she said she would if I got better at cleaning up after myself. I don’t know what her problem is — I am a whiz at making the bed, a skill I learned in the Army. The blanket had to be so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. As a result of those three years in the service, in the States and in Okinawa, I’m a Bed-Maker First Class.
But then it occurs to me that perhaps the fact that I’m so good at bed-making prompts her to view what I view as decidedly adequate performances in other areas as gravely deficient. She can be almost obsessive at times — eventually, the spoons caked with peanut butter will make their way into the dishwasher, in good time, all in good time. . . .
Maybe if I were less attentive to bed-making, my other attempts at tidying up might rise in her estimation! That’s a thought . . . only a thought.
My car, I admit, is a mess, though I can rise to the occasion with a hose — once I, with great effort, haul it out of the basement — especially at this sticky time of year when the frigging catkins from the white oaks rain down. The fact is, if your car is not hosed off in the spring in Springs, you won’t be able to see out of the windshield, which Mary’s pretty sure I can’t do at any time of the year.
I agree we all have our flaws, but we have our strong points too, one of mine being occasional streaks (a good transition, don’t you think?) of good luck, such as occurred this past week. Four raffle tickets, two prizes: dinner for two at Page and a $375 Elie Tahari dress. Two dips into a passed-around pork pie hat and, voilà, magic. She can’t deny that lately I’ve been really cleaning up.