My husband, Don, glanced up from his computer, which he’d set up in our kitchen. “That’s not how I’d do it,” he said.
I stuck my cereal bowl in the dishwasher, using perhaps a little more force than strictly necessary. “Didn’t realize I’d been loading it wrong all these years,” I said. “Thanks for letting me know.” If looks could kill, I would’ve spent the rest of my day burying Don in the backyard.
And this was only Week Two of the Covid lockdown.
I beat a hasty retreat to my home office. Lord, I prayed, now it’s the dishwasher! Please make Don lighten up or we’ll never get through quarantine.
Don’t get me wrong, Don and I have been married for 38 years—happily. But we’re polar opposites.
A Marine…
