- Go to post office, mail L’s package
- Fill Tall’s prescription
- Write Christmas cards
- Birthday present—Renee
- Call Short’s teacher (RE: that kid who bites)
- Call landscaper (RE: dying free)
- Get new sled
- Buy toothpaste
- Register for Real Estate class
I scan my (limited) brain space. Is it supposed to snow today? Did someone mention that there was a sale on sleds? Is our old sled broken? Why the urgency all of a sudden for “new sled”? Isn’t “buy toothpaste” perhaps a little more pressing?
I get busy. I do indeed mail L’s package (although I realize once in the post office parking lot that I had neglected the minor detail of actually bringing the package with me, so I had to go back home and get it). At one point in the day, I consider writing the Christmas cards. I even go so far as to locate the cards.
But sled? Sled does not get crossed off the list.
When The Husband gets home from work, I say, “Hey, Hon, can you look at my list? What is this thing here about me buying a sled? Do you remember us talking about a sled? Do we really even need one, or do you think that could wait a while?”
The Husband is just putting down his coat and work folders. “What are you rambling about? Okay, let me see your list.” His eyes are scanning. “Who is the kid that bites? Do you mean Tony?”
“Of course Tony. But I’m not talking about that. Here,” pointing at Get-new-sled, “Sled. Why do I have to buy a new sled?”
He squints. He holds the paper far away. He holds the paper close to his face, like he is testing for authenticity. “It doesn’t say ‘sled’. I think it says ‘sched’.” He looks up at me, proud of his detective skills.
Sched! Of course sched! I need to call the high-end kitchen store to get my new schedule. I’ll do that right after I call my landscaper about that free that seems to be dying in our backyard.