Today, Dorothy speaks:
Lordy, there he sits like a bump on a log. He never gets out of that recliner except to go to work (if he can call it work) and to go to Al and Jean’s on Sunday after I get home from church. He wouldn’t even go then except he likes to talk to Al about football.
Jean and I long ago made them go outside to talk football. We got so tired of hearing about it. He thinks we talk Antiques Roadshow when we’re really discussing our marriages. Jean and Al have been working on rekindling theirs. This trip to London is a second honeymoon. I didn’t tell George beforehand because I thought it might wake him up. Thank goodness Dannie was home.
I see him giving me the fish eye when I wear my green sweat pants. He hasn’t even noticed that I’ve lost 35 pounds and they hang on me now.
Lordy, I am so tired of tuna salad on toast and tomato soup. Years ago I’d ask him every Sunday what he’d like, and it was always the same. Except, he wanted the sandwich fried in butter, and he’s overweight enough. A couple times I’ve had to help him get out of that recliner.
He has no ambition at all. No sense of adventure. How did this happen? When he was in his twenties, he was so full of ideas and plans. I guess my dad giving him a salesman’s job was a mistake. Thirty years later, he’s still there. All he does is sit in his office and play games on the computer.
What a blessing little Dannie is. Without her encouragement I never would have decided to leave boring George and strike out on my own.
“Yes, George? More soup?”
“No. Thanks. I was thinking. What are we going to do when I retire? Got any dreams? A bucket list?”
“Actually, George, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that. Guess now’s as good a time as any. I’m going to San Francisco with Dannie. We leave Wednesday. I think it’s time I found out what life is all about. You’ll be making your own tuna on toast after tonight, George. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate tuna on toast and tomato soup?”