One morning, I have an appointment. Later I will have to bring my daughter to the orthodontist.
But there is a window in between.
I go to HomeSense.
I find blue shelves for my son:
A funky set of drawers for my daughter:
In telling this story to my husband later, I say:
“…so I had a little time on my hands.”
He rolls his eyes, hangs his head and laughs.
Those eight words that can only mean:
“…so I went shopping.”
They were on sale.
The top of my husband’s dresser.
His clock radio. His box of important paper and the cat brush. The head made of stone.
There is a cough candy stuck in his mouth right now. Often we stick other things in his eyes, nose or mouth – pennies, rings, subway tokens, a tiny tube of cold sore medication.
During the night, if I am awake, I look over at my husband’s dresser a lot. What time is it now?
The stone head looks back at me always in perpetual shock.