Sherry Hopkins Column
Published 12:00 am Friday, May 11, 2007
Get the picture? by Sherry Hopkins
“Well a hardheaded woman, a soft hearted man, been the cause of trouble ever since the world began………”
I seem to have my Lucy (I Love Lucy) moments more and more as I get older.
I have been extremely independent my whole life. Was brought up to be. No ifs, ands or buts.
While watching a talk show this week I recognized myself in someone on the show. A child was talking to her mother and she told her that she never wanted any help with anything, she could always “do it herself.” But when no one ever offered to help her she became irate, hurt and just downright mad. I saw myself in her. It was not a pretty picture.
I have spent my adult life burdening myself with things I thought no one else could do or knew how to do to my satisfaction.
Hardheaded woman indeed! This is a trait I am working on changing. Shhhhhhhhh, I haven’t mentioned this little character flaw to Dear Don. I doubt he’s noticed it, you think?
Anyway back to my Lucy moment. Since I have been staying at home I have become quite the lady of the house. I scrub, I clean, I wash, I cook, I am the chief financial officer, I’m in charge of pets, the yard, the vehicles and just generally making sure my soft-hearted man doesn’t have to lift a tired finger around the house.
So now that summer is creeping towards us new chores abound. We opened our pool this past week and I have taken over the care of it. It has been in years past a two-person operation. This year I was determined to make it mine and mine alone. One reason is because Dear Don is working longer hours than usual and is exceptionally tired at day’s end. The other reason is I just like a challenge. I did all this while Dear Don continuously protested that it was “way too much for one person to do.” Hardheaded woman.
Yesterday I pondered on how I could clean the pool by myself. I rigged up an ingenious little contraption that would allow me to do just that. I couldn’t wait to test it. I got out in the early afternoon in my work clothes and sunscreen. I got all the equipment out and got started, excited that Don would be proud of my accomplishment. Everything went smoothly. No problem. My contraption was flawless and enabled me to do the job solo.
After cleaning I had to add chemicals, something I have done year in and year out. I mixed up my chemicals and got just a little too carried away stirring my mixture and some splashed towards my face. I instinctively closed my eyes tightly shut but felt cold liquid hit close to them.
While my eyes were still shut I took off my glasses with one hand while grabbing for the water hose refilling the pool. We have tremendous water pressure at Plum Point, something that up to this moment I have always been fond of. I grabbed the hose and pointed it towards my eye.
The next thing I know water is being forced up my nose at a high rate of speed per second. I started choking, gagging, sneezing and literally drowning standing on dry ground, feet away from my pool and a tenth of a mile from the lake.
Have you ever had a brain freeze from eating really cold ice cream in the hot summertime?
Well, you should try a brain WASH, especially with ice cold water? How refreshing — NOT. I had put that hose right up my nose, leaving my tightly shut eye with no relief at all.
After I recovered I had to sit on the porch and rock awhile. That’s where Dear Don found me when he came home from work. I relayed the story to him with a few more embellishments than I have relayed to you.
He laughed, shook his head and told me how stupid I was in the same loving manner that I use when I call him names.
“You don’t know the difference between your eye and your nose?” he asked incredulous at what I get myself into.
“Well evidently not when I am in a panic,” I replied incredulous that he could even ask such a silly question.
It was then that my softhearted man looked at me with all the love he could muster kissed me softly on my forehead and told me just how much he loved me for doing the chores all alone so he wouldn’t have to help.
I got a woman, a head like a rock. If she ever went away I’d cry ‘round the clock.
You get the picture.
P.S. It seems that a good cold brainwash may be a cure for sinus problems. I feel better than I have in months! I suggest you try a slightly different approach though.
(Contact Sherry at email@example.com)