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Foul!
“John! You cut me off!”
The set up:
Cheryl and I are side by side at the medicine cabinet. I am on the right, Cheryl to the left. We reach for the Costco size bottle of anti-histamine (approximately a 36 month supply) at around the same time. My hand reaches the bottle first, prompting Cheryl’s accusation of foul play.My conclusion:
Because we were both standing in front of the medicine cabinet at the same time, and because I had no prior knowledge of Cheryl’s intent to reach for the bottle of anti-histamine, I cannot fairly be accused of a cut-off maneuver. In fact, given my relative position (on the right side), and the handedness of our reach (right hand), my hand had to travel farther than Cheryl’s hand to reach the medicine cabinet. (My hand had to come across my body, where Cheryl’s just had to come up from her side. Although I enjoy a height advantage, my greater arm length to height ratio negates this advantage.) Assuming an equivalent reach velocity, in order for my hand to reach the anti-histamine first, I would have had to reach for it first. And if I reached first, if anyone was guilty of a cut-off maneuver it was Cheryl.Pot, meet kettle:
Now if you ask Cheryl, she’ll tell you that she was in the bathroom first, and had planned to procure her meds well in advance. I think this is a bunch of horseradish. Everyone knows the female of the species tends to have a longer bathroom to-do-list than the male. The male can hardly be expected to wait on the female to finish ALL of her bathroom related tasks prior to entry. I’d have to get up an hour earlier every day – and that dog just don’t hunt.
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Ode to sitters past
On second thought, I’m a tad tired for poetry. This will have to do.
This past week was a bit sad for a couple different reasons. Nothing cataclysmic mind you, just run-of-the-mill melancholy. The most obvious reason was Beth’s forthcoming return to school. Beth had a hard year last year and I hoped (not just for my sake) that this year would be better. But the end of summer vacation was something we could see coming for months (years even), so it wasn’t a big surprise. The news that Adam’s part-time sitter was sitting on a lucrative offer to become un-retired on the other hand… was a surprise. We’ve been blessed with top-notch daycare for Adam, and we’ve known it. Knowing it and facing a loss of it was hard to swallow. How do you react to that? How do you tell someone you’re happy for their good fortune, and sad for the loss of their presence in your son’s life, without one of them sounding like a lie?
As a graduate of the John Kerry School of Personality*, I suspect I didn’t do a very good job.
*So sayeth the resident bitter Democrat (that would be me).
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No room for coffee
I feel really bad for you. You see this is the second time I’ve written this entry. The first version was a real hoot… and I guess it still is, safely tucked away on my computer at work. I jotted down a rough draft on break, then proceeded to get busy as all get out… prompting it to get forgotten. I’m slated to be away from my office until next week, and I hate to let you go that long without such a primo topic; so I’ve decided to rehash it here.
Pulling up the site I’ll bet you were completely unaware that such good fortune awaited you.
We now rejoin our irregularly scheduled entry…
You know that I have strong feelings about the proper role of the cell phone in a public restroom. You know this because I’ve used this space to tell you, on more than one occasion. I mention this because I was similarly struck dumb by a throne room encounter earlier today. I was soaping up after a successful bathroom break when I noticed a steaming cup o’ joe sitting on the counter. Answer me this dear reader: how could anyone ‘dis a perfectly good cup of coffee like that? Further, who needs their coffee so bad they need to nurse their warm mug the 90 seconds it takes to commute to the satellite office? I’ve been known to obsess over coffee a wee bit, but I’m not so bad off I need to take it EVERYWHERE I go.
Naturally I bit my tongue, held my comments, and saved my say for the safe confines of my personal web site… just like the coward that I am.