 Today, my sister will take a six-hour flight to arrive at my house
and will stay for two weeks. I am elated that I'll get to see her
again. It's been far too long.However, she is wigging out because
of the long flight and the millions of possibilities that something
will go wrong and she will find herself falling out of the sky
without a parachute.
I am wigging out because my towels don't match, we need new
carpeting, and my upstairs bathroom has suddenly started to reek for
no reason at all. Compared to falling out of the sky, these concerns
are pretty minor, but for someone like me, they seem huge.
Three days ago my sister called to ask if I minded if she sent a
package that contained her shampoo and conditioner. She needed more
than the 3 ounces the airport authorities would allow.
Having your own shampoo and conditioner when you are out of town
is like eating comfort food when you are depressed. I totally
understood.
"As long as it doesn't contain packing peanuts or shredded
paper," I said. "I just vacuumed the hall. By the way, what's your
favorite color?" I figured if I was going to buy matching towels, I
might as well buy a color she liked. It's the least I can do.
She has allergies to dust mites and my carpets hadn't been
cleaned since I loaned my carpet cleaner to someone. I can't
remember who borrowed it; that's how long ago it was. Surely my
carpets would be harboring dust mites by the bazillions.
Plus, she would have to put up with that foul odor in the
bathroom until I determined the origin and eradicated it. My
bathroom had been cleaned and disinfected dozens of times in the
past week. There is no way that anything stinky could live in there.
Still, there was that smell. I was considering sandblasting.
Yes, at the very least, I had to have matching towels.
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 Two days ago she called and told me not to go shopping until she
got there because she and her kids have special eating requirements
-- allergies, again.
I went shopping anyway and bought matching towels and enough
cleaning supplies to disinfect the Empire State Building. I hoped
that one of the products would somehow either find the offensive
stink-maker, or mask it with the smell of lavender... or clean
linen... or rain.
Rain? What does rain smell like? To me, it smells wet... and kind
of... worm-ish. Maybe not ideal for my bathroom, but certainly
better than what it smelled like then.
Today she called and said her flight was delayed two hours. She
fretted about what could be wrong with the plane.
"I mean if a plane is delayed two hours, something is terribly
wrong, right?"
"It's more likely that your pilot slept through his alarm and got
stuck behind a jackknifed tractor-trailer on the freeway. It would
take at least two hours to airlift him out, I think."
"You think so?" she asked skeptically.
"Oh yeah. Happens all the time," I said to reassure her.
In fact, I was thinking that the delay gives me two more hours to
vacuum those carpets again and find that stench.
She asked me, "Am I being neurotic again?"
If she was being neurotic, then I needed therapy. I can't afford
therapy.
"Of course not," I said. "It's a perfectly valid concern."
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info. |
