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My husband tells me I am a makebate. So, what's wrong with that? I love to write. I have 2 great kids and 1 grandson. I'd love to say I am "retired" but really, who retires from life? Shoot me a question, comment, rant or rave. They are all welcome here. Love dogs, my family, and most of all, debate. Pro NRA, conservative and a right wing lady.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

honey buns and the great fish

So, the saga of the wedding ring.  After my unfortunate demise as an employee at the local hospital, I decided the best way to vent my anger at a most unsatisfying experience was to throw myself into cleaning.  Not a simple wave of the mighty Swiffer wand, but down to earth, hearty, hold onto your Poise Pad spring cleaning.  4 bedrooms, 4 full baths, lawn furniture, steam cleaning living room furniture and doing windows - and I am half way done.  Tomorrow will be the downstairs part of the house - and more of the same adventure that has taken its toll on my back tonight.

What's the best part of this adventure in self exiled Clorox Clean-Up?  Simple.  I have a fat ass.  No Kardashian rear end, no Jennifer Lopez, and no Norm from Cheers.  I will cast blame where it is richly due to be placed - my lack of self control when it comes to gluten free mac n' cheese and an underlying desire to cast my terminator boss to some far off island where no booze or cigarettes exist.

I started to think about all the things that employees who are fired have running through their heads shortly after a termination of unjust causes. What is the best possible course of action in order to cast 1,000 chiggers into the underwear of someone so deserving?  There are a hundred ways to think of the "big get even". Ultimately though, I came to the conclusion that getting even isn't my style.

Here's what I think the remedy is.  I went to work every shift with an attitude of why I was working in an emergency room - Patient Care.  I drove myself to be perfect, perform a team member mentality, be as gracious as I could possibly be (and for those of you who have known me a REALLY LONG TIME, that took some doing)!!!  I did not come to work late, but stayed late when needed.  I did not take a formal lunch break, but ate at the nurses station.  I did not bring my small children to work, and always, always, always, stayed true to my convictions that anyone who is in health care should be there because they want to help a patient who is sick.  I could wish 1,000 red hot fire ants on my superior, but that wouldn't bring me as much pleasure as the bottom line - The Truth.  You  know the saying - The Truth Shall Set You Free.  I can face my sagging freckled skin in the mirror every day (and, the truth be told,  by the way age is creeping up on my menopausal body,) this is no easy feat.  I can hold my head high and know deep in my heart that I did my best.

So, after the torture of spring cleaning, I decided that I should return home (my own home) and do some wifely chores.  Cook dinner,  empty the dishwasher,  walk the dog - all the things that a husband dreams of  in a wife.  I even cleaned the fish bowl.  I actually wanted another dog - but convinced John that a Beta Fish would be tolerable until he comes to his senses and realizes that our solo dog is lonely.

At any rate - there I was, cleaning Spike's bowl.  I stuck my hand in the bowl, caught Spike, who then slipped through my grip, almost meeting his final fate with the kitchen drain.  I saved the fish, and plopped him into a cup.  He's a pretty cool fish.  He tolerates Mickey Finn, our special needs cat, sticking his furry paw into the bowl - a task the cat likes to take on after he's done watching Animal Planet or Deadliest Catch.  Spike swims in a circle, looking through the porch window, and well, being a fish.    

Spike got fresh water and looked pretty content.  I then went to the task of washing the mixing bowl from the meatloaf caper.  I realized that my wedding ring was gone.  I momentarily thought it was in the meatloaf.  This reminded my of the old I Love Lucy episode where Ricky tries to teach Lucy a lesson about leaving her wedding ring around.  I stared at the clump of raw hamburger and thought, Oh please no.....not there.  I dug around in the cold beef - no ring.  I then started to cry.  How can a simple gold band have such symbolism wrapped up in its circle?  Well, I might have taken my husband for granted many, many times, but faced with the possibility that I had lost my wedding ring, I became quite distraught.  I fished around in the garbage disposal - still no ring.  I thought about the 4 bathrooms I had deep cleaned and a flash of horror overcame me as I realized that my wedding ring might be on its way to California via a river outlet somewhere.  After 20 minutes of becoming frantic, and, well, sad...I went out to the deck, saw my neighbor Shannon and told her I had lost my wedding ring.  It really ate at me that I was so careless with the one piece of jewelry I hold most dear.

I then turned to go back in, and the sun hit the fish bowl with just the perfect ray of light...and there at the bottom of Spike's bowl was the MY WEDDING RING AND THE GREAT FISH.

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