We regret that trivial activities such as our jobs have prevented us from engaging in the important work of writing up our barbecue revue. We really, really will post it this week.

Fred, meanwhile, has obviously gotten light-headed from his weight loss. I arrived home last week to be met with this astonishing news.

Fred: “I got us some new Clorox wipes at the store today. I noticed there were some stains on the kitchen floor, so I wiped them up.”

I stared. I looked at the floor, where two coffee stains, not Swifferable, had been lingering. I looked back at Fred.

“You did what?” I croaked.

“I wiped up the stains.”

“Let me get this straight. You actually noticed there were stains, and you wiped them up?”

Fred began to look worried. “Well, yes,” he said.

He should be worried, I thought. He’s gone mad. How long can this go on?

Later, I noticed a large quantity of paint on the $50 wooden display we’d bought to hold prints for his upcoming art show. Apparently Fred had decided it would make a great easel. “What about the extra easel you have sitting over there?” I asked. “Isn’t that what it’s FOR?”

“Well, it’s all beat up and has paint on it.”

My faith in humanity was restored.

5 thoughts on “Apologies

  1. I know you apologized and all for the delay, and even offered up strange-but-true tales of Fred’s new domesticity, but you don’t seem to be aware of the significance that a double-blind taste test of Carlina barbecue holds for your readers. It’s barbecue, dammit. And you’re sitting on test results for 10 days!

  2. I cleaned out my refrigerator this weekend. Not just the “pitch everything unidentifiable or that you don’t remember buying” kind of cleaning, but also the “remove all the shelves and wash them sparkling clean” cleaning.Boo was very excited about helping. She actually got her shelves washed about as fast as I did. There was, though, the one mishap where she thought it would be best to prop the shelf flat on the sink to wash it. This wasn’t a bad idea per se, only it meant that all the water from the running faucet was sluicing off onto the counter. There were also a couple of misfires from the spray faucet, but by then most of the surrounding area was wet enough that it didn’t really matter.I also meant to tell you that the microwave you gave me finally broke down. Only fifteen years old, too.

  3. scoop her, Paul!That’s exactly the kind of competitive spirit that we’ve lost in this country now that almost no cities have more than one newspaper.

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