Sunday, July 22, 2007
My teenage son was scanning the pantry. I asked him what he was looking for. "Mayonnaise." Hopeful that he would make his own lunch, I told him to look in the refrigerator. He shrugged and, expending as little effort as possible, walked to the fridge, opened its door and quickly declared, "It's not here." I knew it was there. I joined him at the refrigerator, immediately saw the mayonnaise, grabbed it, shoved it into his hands and asked, "Are you blind?" He stared at the jar. "No, are you deaf? I was looking for Band-Aids."
What I need: round-trip bus tickets to New York, Advil, gas in my car, more money, a birthday card for Jean, to stop eating ice cream for breakfast, a way to move a futon to Boston, textbook money, a plan, a kitchen table.
What I want: new shoes, to lose five pounds, a nap, free everything, my cat on my stomach, better social skills, cooking classes, someone else to do the dishes, beer money, cheese fries, to smack some people, fewer doubts, to be there already.
What I have: two jobs, one more year of college, too much choice.
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