Friday, April 15, 2011

5:45 p.m. and I’m cooking dinner, mom’s filling the coffee pot and dad has a small boat battery next to the kitchen sink.  Dad’s attire for the day is blue tattered coveralls with an inside-out, what used to be gray sweatshirt over the top.  And work gloves.  Black work gloves, covered with black stuff.  How do I know this?  When he walked over to what used to be the utensil drawer, next to the stove where I am cooking, to pull out a mini flashlight, he left black smudges on the drawer face.  He used the light to deduce the battery needed water. So he proceeded into the dining room where mom’s plants are and fetched her watering can. Whilst filling the battery he scraped gunk off the top of the battery onto the kitchen floor.  While I was waiting for the gunk to corrode a hole into the floor, he gathered the battery and traipsed through the family room out into the garage.  In his wake:  black smudge on drawer face, watering can on kitchen counter, battery water and black stuff on the kitchen counter, particles of corrosion on the kitchen floor, hence on the bottom of his shoe, hence rubbed into the family room carpet on the way out to the garage.  Yet, he put the flashlight away.

My dinner tonight consisted of an audio sandwich.  The kitchen table is smack in the middle of mom’s TV in the family room and dad’s TV in the living room.  Mom had her volume up very loud because she wanted to hear more about Catherine Zeta Jones’ bi-polar episode.  Dad was watching the Yankees at his typical loud volume.  The three of us were at the table eating dinner. Conversation was yelling.  I feel a bit nauseous and dizzy.  I’m thinking it is not because of my cooking.