Absence makes the tongue grow tetchier!
I am home alone for the last week, once again trying to keep a brave face on my temporary isolation. Ok, forget that… the truth is, as any of the Lads will confirm, the first few days of being on your own is sheer and utter bliss!
One mug, one plate… just rinse under the tap between uses: coffee machine churning it out; air fryer ready for tee (tea?) off, and fridge stocked with goodies: shoes left wherever I kick them off, trousers on the floor, toilet seat up and bed only ‘straightened’ after I snuggle into it – and not one person tells me I went into town ‘looking like a tramp!’.
None of this means that the lines of communication are closed during a separation – far from it; ‘If you were me, where would you find a singlet vest in this house?’ ‘Can this yoke be cooked in the microwave?’ (photo attached). That is a sample of my dispatches. I am always polite, courteous and always say ‘please’ – but I can’t say that I receive a similar kind, sympathetic response – or the type of answer I deserve. Absence appears to sharpen certain tongues!
Those of you who were paying attention will recall that I recently completed a section of the Camino to raise funds for Irish Hospice Foundation. (Thank you for your sponsorship). There were 30 of us in a diverse group of the greatest bunch of people one could wish to spend time with. Anyway, you know me and anyone who ever wore a county jersey in hurling or football attracts me like a fly to flypaper. And so I sent Mrs youcantbeserious a Whatsapp Camino photo of myself sandwiched between Cork legend Niall Geary and Louth great Patrick Butterly. Instant reply back – and as I opened it, expecting at least a ‘WOW’. This is what I got instead; ‘White shorts, white shoes, black socks… not a great image!’ Can you believe it? Absence making the mind sharper… and tongue tetchier! I can give you a worse example…
Some years ago, when we still owned Paddy’s Point Pub, Mrs Youcantbeserious was on her way to join me in Spain after a two-week separation. She had been having trouble with a painful foot and I reckoned I had found the cure. My German friends swore by the healing powers of the salt lakes and mud baths outside Torrevieja.
The day after the bride arriving, we had to cancel the first walk in the salt water, due to the fact she was suffering… how can I say this and protect the sensitivity of the Gorls; wife had ‘Turkish Tummy’… and couldn’t stir far from that room I told you about where the lid can be either up or down…
So, next morning we head for the salt lake. The salt is so thick and the granules so sharp you have to wear foot protection and wash the salt off skin, clothing and runners with fresh water immediately afterwards. Mrs YCBS did not rinse her runners sufficiently and the following day they were hard as a rock – set like cement.
The good news was that the salt water treatment seemed to have worked on the faulty foot. Then being me with my big mouth, I couldn’t help myself and put one of my own feet in it. ‘Pity you didn’t come out and sit in the lake the first day you arrived and you could have cured the other ailment,’ sez I! The instant reply risked leaving me emotionally damaged for life, had I not had a proven record in the relevant department. ‘No, you should have sat in it… when I see what it did to my shoe!’ Ouch…!
I pulled one back, however, a short time later. I went to Dublin Airport to collect herself. We time it so that I don’t have to park, but instead pick up the passenger at the departure drop-off. I got the ‘just landed’ text on the M50 and stalled for half an hour before pulling into the agreed pick-up spot. Just then my phone went ‘beep beep’. ‘Waiting for baggage,’ said the text. ‘Me too,’ I replied – and drove around the block!
Hard to believe that after all the abuse I begin to miss her after a week. Wife due home in a couple of days and today is ‘hanging up clothes day’, ‘sweeping of floor day’, sink draining-board sparkling, garbage emptied, toilet-lid down, air freshener sprayed into every corner, and a dab of after shave at the ready for myself. I guess I’m just an oul softie at heart – but isn’t life great all the same…
JC… since writing the above, I have just put a dent in her new car. If there is a blank space here next week… call the cops!
Don’t Forget
Know your circle of competence, and stick within it. The size of that circle is not important; knowing its boundaries, however, is vital. (Warren Buffett)