October 28, 2007

I brought down several books with me to Florida. And I had this idea that I would catch up on some writing projects that have been on the back burner.

Well, no such luck. Keeping up with the life of a retired person (or "retarded" person as Harold repeats, no matter how crusty that pun is) is exhausting. And it leaves very little room for my personal time.

There is breakfast. A boiled egg and salmon. "Lots of cream cheese because I have to bulk up. Did I tell you I am up to 183 pounds this morning?" Breakfast is accompanied by the crossword puzzle.

After breakfast, I am granted a short break. "I have to do my teeth." What other person in the world do you know who "does their teeth" with the care, precision and dedication that NASA took in landing a man on the moon. And that every single day. Of course, he never misses the opportunity to take a break while "doing his teeth" to come find me and make some comment about nothing while the floss hangs there in between two teeth, dangling while he talks.

Then, we have to "plan the day." In his mind, no, not just in his mind, with one hand lightly on my forearm, he lays out the best route to hit all the stores in such a way that optimizes either left or right hands turns from "the good lanes." All I can do while he is doing this, is stare at his hand gently resting on my arm. And though I still find it a particularly handsome hand, I am wondering how I could explain to everybody that it was just an accident that I happened to grab it and shove it down the sink disposal.

The main mission today is to buy new wine glasses. We need new ones because he has broken two over the last week. So, they are obviously no good. We need ones that don't have as long a stem so they won't be top heavy.

The morning is spent researching various brands online. And checking store hours. (Even though it is going to be at least 11 by the time we are on the road. "Yah but it's Sunday and some stores don't open til noon.")

The fact that is Sunday also means that the most important mission today is the paper.

Harold: I'm worried that Fatima won't have one. He always runs short.
Me: Well, then we'll just keep stopping at stores until we find one.
Harold: No, because I know they will have one at Publix. They always do.

I stare at him calmly wondering if he hears his initial denial of every single thing anyone ever says; and then that he adds something which didn't even require that denial! I look at those lips which must have made many women happy (since he himself is proud of the nickname "liver lips") and I wonder ... hmm, if I shove his face really far into the sink, will the disposal unit catch a hold of them?

Me: Then we'll go to Publix.
Harold: Yah but I want to go to Fatima to see if he has one.
Me: Ommmmmm.

Fatima -- (They don't have one.) ("Ommmmm")
Publix -- (They do.) ("Whew.")

Bed Bath & Beyond -- to see if we can get fancy glasses cheaply. Nope, they are too ugly.

Whole Foods -- so I can buy some hippy food. I catch him at the checkout line, looking a woman up and down. Harold: "You should get off the internet and start shopping here if you want to find a date. At least you can see the whole package of what you're getting!" Me: Sigh, at 83 my dad is still an incorrigible flirt, but in such a charming way.

Circuit City -- to find a new phone pouch for him. "This one I have is so big and ugly." He grumps that all the pouches at Circuit City are too big (because they fit his phone.) He picks up a nice leather one. "This one is nice." Me: It's nice because it's too small for your phone. Harold: Yahbut I could cut out the top right here at the fold. Me: Yeah, you could do that. Harold: Yahbut that wouldn't make it look nice anymore. Me: Ommmmmm

Town Center Mall:
Harold: "I'll show you (Me: Ommmm) where to park." (Me: Double-Ommm.)

Sears: we look at tool boxes.

Food Court: we are both hungry and get lunch.

Bloomingdale's to the crystal department. The goal here is to buy something that "has a name" and is "expensive." Him: "It has to be something Corinna will like and she wants a name." Then he pauses for a moment and adds -- "You know, like Nicky."

He remembers Baccarat as a "name." Yes, they have Baccarat. Ooh and yes, there is the perfect glass. And yes, the price tag is sufficient enough to impress even Nicky. But what's more: He actually likes it. "My nose fits in it."

(So how much does it take to impress your wife and daughter? I know you are dying to know. Ok, ok, so: $120 a pop.)

We are about to buy a set of six, but then ... wait: Harold does not pay retail prices. "Will these be going on sale anytime soon?" Oh yes, sir, in about two weeks, but you can reserve now and I will call you in two weeks. Done deal. As we are walking out, he turns to me and says, "You know how many people are ashamed to ask whether there might be a sale?"

(I am quiet because there are just too many answers going through my head to give to this millionaire who just saved a few bucks on a present for his wife, who will now have to wait several weeks in order for her to get her damn present, just because he wasn't ashamed to ask for about a sale.)

Nordstrom's -- looking for sandals for me. None.

Williams Sonoma: "Let's see if I got a good deal on those glasses." They don't sell glasses.

Crate and Barrel: "Let's see if I got a good deal on those glasses." They have nice glasses for $3.95. "Yahbut they're just not the right shape."

(Oh right. Like... as if they WERE the right shape, he would have bought the $3.95 glasses instead of the $120 ones?)

Back to the apartment. He takes a nap. I start writing this blog. Then it's coffee time (3:30) and he comes into the kitchen. "I'm up to 187!"

Me: Alright, enough! You are using this as an excuse to gorge yourself!

Him: Of course I am! Corin! What kind of cookies do we have to go with this coffee?

Okay, I gotta go. We have to do the walk.

Then more food.