The End of Absence Makes the Ire Grow Stronger

Hick has been off the hook of late. And by "off the hook," I don't mean that he's been especially awesome. Since he was gone to Sweden for a week, and totally out of my hair, I had little to complain about, once his residual imprint around the homestead had faded. Well, let me tell you something.

HE'S BACK!

In case I might have forgotten, the bedcover situation last night made Hick's return clear. I might have tried to forget the fact that for a couple of weeks now, no matter how many times I tug and straighten it in the morning, my side of the fitted sheet is pulled loose from the corner by the time I hit the sack in the early morning hours. That's because Hick rolls up in the bedclothes like a giant burrito that even the Man vs Food guy would never attempt to consume. But it's the quilt situation that screams, "I'm BAAAACK!"

I walked from the master bathroom toward the end of the bed, to go around to my side away from the door (details in case Joe H wants to compile data for his study). In the dim light, I saw the wedding quilt my grandma made for us draped from the Hick burrito all the way to the carpet. Draped like a fine Paso Fino mane. Magnificent in it's drapage. Which meant that my side of the bed, in all its short-sheeted glory, was also as bare as Old Mother Hubbard's quilt cupboard. Let the record show that when you lie on your side, the cover should come down over your body, not end along an imaginary line from shoulder to hip to ankle. Forget about my heart growing cold while Hick was away. My body grows cold now that he's back.

But that's not all! This morning I made a pot of chili for him, because Hick likes chili. With toast. So I had to buy a loaf of plain white bread for him yesterday so he can make toast to go with his chili. Oh, don't think VAL is the one making his toast! I made his lunch! He wanted some Oberle sausage and Oberle cheese. Which I bought yesterday, along with his toast bread, and chili ingredients, and special crackers, although he had to make do with oval crackers instead of round Ritz, because I was shopping at Save A Lot, not some gourmet superstore.

I don't begrudge Hick the chili, because I like it too. But I don't see why he couldn't slice his own sausage. Heh, heh. My 13-year-old self is trying to be improper. Funny how a guy can do ANYTHING with a knife...except slice food for his own sustenance.

But that's not all! I told Hick that his lunch was sliced and on the second shelf of Frig II. And the crackers were in the box on the cutting block, where I had taken out the chili beans and canned ingredients to make the chili this morning. Well. I'd like to think you might be surprised to find that I returned from the bank and post office this morning to discover THIS:

But I know you won't be. Surprised, that is. Uh huh. Hick had opened his crackers, eaten some for lunch, and replaced the open box of crackers in this box that had carried home the groceries from Save A Lot. Like that's where they belong. Not in the pantry two steps to the right, just out of view, next to the laundry room door. Oh, yeah. I know our cutting block needs seasoning. But it's not like I hack up a side of beef there on a regular basis.

But that's not all! All week, I've been putting two cans of soda in Frig II so Hick can have one with supper, and one with his snack later in the evening. A Diet Mountain Dew, and a Diet A&W Root Beer. The 12-packs sit on a kitchen chair beside the door, where he can easily grab them and put them in himself. Or put the whole 12-pack in there. Hick was spoiled by The Pony stocking the basement mini fridge and bringing him a soda whenever he called for one. This afternoon, I saw that Hick had FINALLY put two sodas in for himself.

Right in the open space on the top shelf that I had cleared out to set the pot of chili when it cooled off.