I call this photo “Waiting for Word.”
I told Martin that our washing machine is broke. He asked me a dozen questions.
Finally, I said, “You know? Now that I think about it, I have never touched a washing machine in my life. You better go check it out yourself.”
Now, I sit and wait. I can hear him pushing buttons, slamming doors, pulling drawers, beep, beep, beep. I am waiting for him to come back to me and repeat the obvious.
*10 minutes later*
He just returned to the bedroom.
He goes, “I think it’s a faulty wire. It still works, but you just have to stand there and hold down the button for it to work. I just stood there holding the button for 10 minutes and it worked fine the whole time I was there.”
We have visitors arriving tomorrow, so I sent my teenager out to get fresh flowers from the fields near our village. She returned, and reminded me before she went to bed that she left the flowers on the porch.
Here it is, close to midnight, and I remembered them as I scrubbed the tub.
I asked Martin to put them in vases for me, but he hollered that I needed to bring out some shears first. Because our teenager LITERALLY took ’em straight outta the field and brought them home.
Everyone is trolling me in this house. Everyone.