I was coaxing a few more inches out of an old Sharpie when my wife did the unthinkable- she threw it away!
“What are you doing?!” I was aghast. “Put it back the drawer and let it heal.”
And this is sad to admit- Libby is among a host of merciless judgers that throw things away at the very first sign of weakness.
“Here”, I fetched Ol’ Blackie out the basket and drew a good 6 inches before he started gasping again. “See? And that’s only after a few seconds of rest- you scared the poor fella’. Let him back in the drawer and he’ll be rested up tomorrow.”
Libby’s eyes narrowed- “You’re the one who’s been putting dud batteries back in the storage cabinet, aren’t you?” – she was all heartless and mean like batteries don’t have feelings.
“Six months of vigilance, keeping us safe from fire, and you just want throw him away, huh?”
“You just called a battery a ‘Him’?”
“You see, that’s what wrong with America. When the bomb drops and the office supply cabinet is empty, you’ll be scraping around in the aftermath– supply-less, and I’ll have my stash of ol’ buddies ready to help a guy out.”
She rolled her eyes- “What else do you believe ‘heals’ itself?”
“Drill bits. Absolutely. I can smoke a ½ inch hole thru solid oak with a cement bit I found at a construction site 4 years ago. Hack Saw blades… sand paper…razors…any kind of blade for that matter- all they need is a little time and one more chance. I even have a few typewriter ribbons for when the computer crashes.”
She was out the door and down the hall shaking her head- didn’t even listen to half my list!
She’s a great wife, an excellent person, but a little hard to work with sometimes. I’ll drop the subject for now…circle back later on, let her rest and heal a little bit.
After all, it works for the markers
J