While many people have specific financial goals for retirement; creating a diverse portfolio capable of weathering the economic roller coaster we always seem to be on, my retirement plan is much more modest. I simply wanted the exterior of my home to be as paint-free as possible. Thanks to aluminum and vinyl, I have almost accomplished that goal.
Last week I was painting the last bit of exposed wood on my property, a small deck off of the sunroom. For three hours I scraped and sanded and applied two coats of paint onto the 35-year-old deck.
“Honey,” the wife said, “take a break. It’s hot and humid. You look miserable and you have been squatting for hours. Why don’t we take a dip in the pool to cool you down?”
“That sounds great. Someday I’m going to have the whole deck wrapped in vinyl to accomplish my retirement goals.”
“You put away that painting stuff and I’ll get phones, drinks and cheese curls and meet you at the pool,” she said.
At the pool, before the disaster.
supplied photo
Several minutes later, I had plopped down on a delightful foam float. I totally relaxed my aching knees and back and drifted off into dreamland. After depositing the pool essentials on the umbrella table next to the pool, the wife joined me on her delightful foam float.
All was perfect, sunny skies, napping dog, the faint scent of our lilac trees, and floating with my sweetheart in the pool. Utopia had been achieved.
It’s funny, isn’t it, how quickly things can change in life? One second you are floating off into dreamland and the next, a wind gust of cyclonic proportions picks up your umbrella table and tips it towards the pool.
I watched in slow motion as everything began sliding off the table into the pool. “NOOOO!” I shouted as my cheese curls hit the water. Then the water bottles plunked into the pool. And finally, one after the other, our cell phones slipped beneath the chlorinated waves. My life passed before my very eyes.
“Oh, the humanity!” I hysterically screamed. “I can’t believe this has happened!”
“Honey,” the wife said. “It’s going to be all right. No one was hurt. The umbrella is not bent. And we can always get new cell phones. That’s why we have insurance.”
“MY CHEESE CURLS! My precious curls are floating all around the pool like so much flotsam and jetsam. They are going to leave a huge orange ring around the pool. I am devastated,” I said scooping them up in my ballcap.
“But what about the phones with all of those beautiful pictures of the family, the dog, vacations?” the wife asked.
“We can always take new pictures. I can never get those cheese curls back. I’ll just run my finger along the liner to savor some of their cheesy goodness. Yummm, cheddar with just a hint of chlorine.”
I can’t believe you’re more worried about your stupid cheese curls than your phone,” the wife muttered. “What is the matter with you?”
“Phones are just little bits of annoying technology, whereas cheese curls are life-sustaining tasty treats.”
Still muttering the wife said, “I’ll go put our phones in rice to dry them out. You can keep licking the liner.”
“Don’t mind if I do. Hmmm … maybe I should invest in cheese curls manufacturing as a part of my retirement plan. Excellent idea.”
(Because I know you’re all still wondering … our phones still work.)
Raul Ascunce is a freelance columnist for the Sentinel-Tribune. He may be contacted at [email protected].
