Left for Cream Cheese

This post is all about the importance of communication and keeping one's imagination in check. Or taking a pill. But mostly it's about communication.

Rooty might remember a similar story about David and his trip to Monterey. We're still working on "checking in" and "using your words."

The other day we got outta bed and David said he was going to run to the store to pick up cream cheese. It was just before 9 a.m. when he took off to the store. I pushed the button on the magic box and had some toast.

I later curled up on the couch with the crossword and as it got closer to 10 a.m. thought it must be stupid busy at the store and he'll be pissed, caught up in the crowds just for cream cheese.

I'm not really a worrier, but when you know your husband's trip to the store should only take a half hour, you start to wonder - did someone crash into him? Did he drive into a tree? Did he slip on a pickle & hit his head and not remember who he is? Is he wandering the streets eating pickles?

The thought of the car wreck came into my head when I heard screeching tires down the street. He was probably fine - but then again, it *could* happen. People have accidents every day. Maybe he was in the ER and soon I'd get the call... if he remembered who he is...

Soon after 10 I thought I'd try him on his cell phone & see what was up. As I dialed the number I walked back toward his office with a hunch. Yup - there it was, ringing on his desk. No reaching him that way.

I got ready to run some errands and around 10:30 went out to the porch for some air. At this point I was worried. On one hand, I was sure everything was probably fine, but on the other hand, you never know. Stuff happens. No one's immune to accidents or UFO abductions in the dairy aisle.

While on the porch I saw Crazy Neighbor Bob puttering around his yard and was reminded of a conversation we'd had a couple of weeks earlier. We were next door at a neighbor's open house when Bob told us about trying to get women in the neighborhood to go out with him. No matter what he tried, no one would go on a date with him.

At that moment I thought, Christ, if anything happens to David, that guy is gonna be over here trying to get me to go out with him.

Now I'm not distraught, but I can't begin to figure out what's happened. Where could he be? Has he left me using the pretense of going out to get cream cheese? I won't be able to tell anyone that - I'll have to say I caught him with an XBox robot and that was it.

When I came back inside I heard him talking on the answering machine and ran to the phone to pick it up. He finished his message just before I could press the Talk button. Now I had to call him back. I scrolled to the number in the phone and jammed down the Talk button.

He answered, chipper as ever. My frazzled state was obvious as I asked what the hell had happened to him. Then he was annoyed, not understanding why I could be so frustrated and worried. What's up with me? I, I, I, but, where, what, WHERE ARE YOU?

He was at work, of course. How could I not know he was at work? He *said* "I'm going to the store to grab some cream cheese." How did I not understand that also meant, "While I'm out, I'm going to stop by work to grab a file I couldn't access last night and while I'm there, I'll get caught up helping the IT guy with a server problem and after that I'll pick up the cream cheese."

Much later that same day, as we enjoyed a tasty dinner, he apologized for his loner, latchkey kid ways and I reminded him of the conversation we'd had with Bob. He promised to never let anything happen to him, ever.