Yesterday morning a firestorm of panic was released against my wife. As she was about to sit down and eat her breakfast, in the 10 minutes she allocates for this purpose in her manic morning routine, she received three urgent requests for her services all within five minutes of each other. Sadly the first request was mine:
“Honey, can you help me figure out how to upload this video into my blog?”
Hair still wrapped in a towel, she hustled into the study to get to the bottom of my latest technological failing.
Next emergency was also, sadly, of my making. Somehow, I had failed to send in the payment for Kaitlin’s county tags, and now she was driving around proudly displaying her NOV. ’12 stickers for all to see. Jon, who was here and had volunteered to take care of the problem, needed the title number for the car. So naturally he went to the fount of all information having anything to do with the Dunnevant household. While Pam was feverishly scouring her computer looking for a Honda Civic title, she gets an agitated text from our son:
“Mom, I need for you to scan a copy of my Social Security card to Westminster’s personnel office immediately or I won’t be approved to attend the Spoleto Festival!”
This, I’m sure brought back fond memories for Pam of those wonderful calls Patrick used to make from Sherri Matthews’ chorus room back in high school:
“Mom, I left my music folder in my room!! I think it’s on the floor next to the TV right beside that pile of empty juice bottles, next to all my dirty clothes. If you don’t bring it here in the next 10 minutes, Mrs. M is gonna kill me!!!”
Now with three balls hovering in the air over her head, Pam had time to think about what she faces over the next 7 days, everything from wedding planning details to end of school reporting, pending teacher license re-certification deadlines, and as of two days ago the new prospect of …wait for it…jury duty! So much for breakfast.
To her, my life must seem like a sunset stroll at the beach. All I have to do is run a business and make money, and remember to buy county tags on time. My record on all three is spotty. I have loads of spare time to work out four times a week, play an occasional round of golf, and write this blog. Pam’s spare time gets quickly co-opted by a thousand little brushfires that only she can put out. She is the only indispensible person I know. I feel like I should do something to help, like suddenly become more useful at the stuff I don’t know how to do. Or maybe I should send her one of those nice e-card things to brighten her day. The problem is, I can’t figure out how to download the link from the website thing, because it keeps saying that I need the latest version of something called “Java script”…
“Hon, could you come in here for a second and help me with this??”