I could say the transition from working life to being at home every day has been challenging, but that would be like saying the Grand Canyon is a big ditch.
My wife Jilda seems a little snippy each day as she heads out to work. OK, I’ll admit that I might spend a little too much time in my sweat pants and the mean time between shaves has increased dramatically, but is that reason for her to be miffed?
Her girlfriends were no help. She got a bunch of sympathy cards from them when I retired which I thought was a little over the top, but then maybe I’m being a little too sensitive.
I tried to help out with the house chores but that didn’t go well. I thought I’d do a few loads of laundry. Hey, I’m handy with my hands, how hard can washing clothes be?
Our dog Bear watched me load up the Whirlpool and he seemed a little uneasy as I tossed in some of Jilda’s clothes, which included a white blouse, along with my black socks, a throw rug, and a pair of coveralls I used when I worked on the car.
Apparently Bear knew there would be trouble because he scurried out the doggie door as if he were running from a fire and hid out behind the shed. Apparently he didn’t want to be around when Jilda got home and the fireworks started.
Who knew that you can’t mix clothes?
OK, I now know that all the women reading this are saying “you ninny, EVERYBODY knows you don’t mix silk and garage boy clothing!” Every day’s a school day.
It also didn’t help that I put one of her favorite sweaters in the dryer. I was there when she pulled it out. I could describe her mood as unhappy but that doesn’t quite capture how annoyed she was.
I tried to diffuse the situation by telling her she’s losing weight and the sweater would fit again in a few months, but that line of reasoning was like trying to put out a campfire by dousing it with kerosene.
She tossed it in the Goodwill bag and ordered me to stay away from the laundry room.
I was a little gun shy for a while, but later in the week I tried to make amends and surprise her by cooking supper. I found out I have a skills gap there too.
The first thing I learned is that you can’t put dried butterbeans on to cook at 6 p.m. if you expect to eat at 6:30 unless you like them REALLY crunchy.
But I did make a mean pone of cornbread.
I had to walk lightly around the house for a while. When the sun came out a few days ago, I pulled her car into the back yard and gave it a good cleaning inside and out. That at least got me out of the doghous.
When I completed the tasks on pages 1 through 122 of her To Do list, she actually cancelled the hit she’d put out
on me.
You’d be surprised at what you can get done for a 12- pack of Bud.
I’m not sure if I’ve mastered this “retirement thang” yet, but with a little luck, I just may actually live to see my next birthday
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