Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. This morning was one of them. There’s a certain order to my day usually. I start out by reading our skinny local newspaper. It’s what I’ve been doing for six or seven years with breakfast and the habit is hard to kick. In all that time, I’ve actually missed receiving my paper only once. The other two times, well . . .
I ran up the stairs to the front door. No paper. I looked to the right of the stairs and then to the left. We haven’t any snow so it wasn’t buried. I called out to my daughter to check her bathroom. Nothing. I called the newspaper. It’s all automated now. After I punched in my phone number and then my house number as directed, a mechanical voice informed me that another paper would be out to me later the same day. It arrived in less than half an hour!
I didn’t know what to do with myself while waiting. Having this extra time at the wrong time of day didn’t suit me. It upset my schedule. I couldn’t even eat breakfast without my paper—I was out of sorts.
Why do I mention my daughter and son-in-law? We’re all in the same house. I live in the granny suite down stairs. Since I have only one daughter this is a win / win situation for both parties. For the most part. As least so far.
My only child, a daughter, was gone from home. I’d hosted ESL students but quit after ten long years. It was a waste of money living in that big house all by myself. The property taxes alone were making me cringe once I’d been retired two years.
I thought it was a good idea if both my daughter and her husband and I sell our houses and buy one for all of us? Bear with me here. This was her inheritance, only earlier than usual. It was also about my golden years. Get the kids used to having me around and when the time came that I needed help, well, I’d be handy and so would they. Right? Sort of. It’s a good thing I’m patient. I know they are a busy young family but what’s convenient for me is sometimes the opposite for them. Like the newspaper this morning.
After lunch I went upstairs to babysit my four-year-old granddaughter. She took one look at me, ran down the hall and came back with today’s paper in its plastic bag, “You forgot your newspaper,” she scolded.
“Where did you find it?” I asked stunned. (I’d forgotten…?)
“It was in my bathroom,” she informed me dramatically, handing over the paper like the miss-know-it-all she is.
Sometimes my son-in-law likes to check out the paper before he leaves for work. It seems in his hurry to get out the door, he used the other bathroom (today) and forgot that it’s my paper and that I’d be looking forward to reading it. With breakfast. Same as the last three years. Like the weekly flyers he forgets to save for me instead of trashing when he’s finished. Also weekly.
Luckily the day got better as it went along.