Awaiting Test Results

 

I have never been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and I have the greatest admiration for those who deal with this disorder on a daily basis.

 

But sometimes I wonder if I suffer from an intermittent version.  You’ve probably seen dogs easily distracted by whisper of ‘SQUIRREL’.  For me it’s untied shoe strings, shiny objects, and COVID-19 tests.

 

Let’s take those in reverse order.

 

A few days ago my wife and I made our weekly pilgrimage to town.  We had several errands to do and strung them all together.  As we pulled into the big blue home improvement store’s parking lot for more van parts (what else?) I was surprised to see a sign offering free COVID tests. FREE!  Did we need a test?  Not really.  Had we been exposed?  We hadn’t left the house in a week.  Did we have symptoms?  Just a drippy nose from wearing a warm mask all morning.  We rationalized it was a chance to bring down our county’s skyrocketing positivity rate!

 

Once we got close enough to read the small print it seemed to require an advance reservation (but there were only two cars in line).  I whipped into a parking space, pulled out my phone, and made reservations for one minute ahead of the current time.

 

We pulled back around the orange cones, proved who we were, and allowed a stranger with black gloves dripping with sanitizer to touch our tonsils (well mine anyway, my wife gave hers up long ago) and every other part of our mouths.  We wiped the tears and parked to go inside the store.

 

We were there to pick up a box of flooring and three screws.  I recognized the woman who brought my flooring box as someone I had gone to church with twelve years ago and had taught her daughter in Sunday school.  She, the daughter, was now 16 and almost as tall as me or so the story goes.  Then an elderly man wearing a cap emblazoned with ‘Texas’ looked at my shirt and told me “Gig ‘em Aggies”.  I almost forgot why I had come to the big blue store after all this.  Luckily I came to and took my flooring box to the car and went back in to help my wife with the three screws.  She had about four packs in the cart.  The next forty-five minutes were spent looking at locks, hinges, towel holders, and other shiny objects.

 

I also get distracted by loose shoestrings.  Not mine.  My wife’s.  She has this pair of shoes that she would have cursed if they had belonged to our children when they were younger.  The strings do NOT stay tied.  We can be working in the garage or the van and she could very well be telling me that we are changing the entire concept of the van layout and installing a hot tub, but if her shoestrings are untied I just hear wind rushing through my ears as I glance at them every five seconds wondering if she knows, is she going to bend down and tie them, should I be chivalrous and tie them, how long have they been like this, what if she trips, what do you think they’ve been drug through already,  could I put a clamp on them to help?  And then she gives me that look and says, “You either don’t agree or don’t understand what I want to do”. 

 

Hmmm.  Could we tie your shoe before I answer?

 

Of course, she knows I don’t have ADD.  I just have the male chromosome.

 

Oh, we each tested negative.  Yay!

1 comment

  • You guys make me laugh!

    Helen Ammons

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