Local survives wife’s absence

SHERWOOD KIRALY

My wife Patti Jo was out of the country for four days last week, so I

was solely responsible for our daughter Katie and the house.

I didn’t panic. In fact, when Patti Jo leaves, there’s usually a

one-day period during which I’m pretty full of myself. I survey my

domain like Lorne Greene used to do during the opening credits of

“Bonanza.” It’s a lot to ride herd on, but it’s all mine -- the

driveway, the kitchen counter, the pillows.

And the first night wasn’t too bad. The window-open, window-shut

controversy was a forfeit in my favor, although I forgot to open it.

I’m more inclined to notice it’s shut when Patti Jo is here shutting

it.

About those pillows: It’s possible that Patti Jo appreciates at

least the first night sleeping without me. I have a tendency to flip

my pillows throughout the night because the near surface gets hot and

I want the cooler side. For Patti Jo it’s like sleeping next to a man

making pizzas, so ordinarily I try to curtail it, but when she’s gone

they’re flying all over the place.

After the first day and night apart, we get to missing each other,

or at least I get to missing her. Aside from her all-around appeal,

there are things she does that I can’t do.

When Patti Jo is gone, there’s no one to talk to Katie about the

things that Katie won’t talk to me about.

There’s also no one for me to complain to. I like to expound on

the latest raw deal I’m getting and Patti Jo gives me more ear time

than anyone else.

There’s no one to sing the breakfast song with Booker, our dog. He

howls along with Patti Jo when she feeds him every morning, but when

I sing the song she made up he just looks at me and waits for the

food.

My own food is a bit of a problem. I don’t have to cook for Katie,

because she’s presently on a rice-cake and Healthy Choice diet, but I

have to choose my meals without spousal input. It’s not like I can’t

do it; I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan. That’s part

of the problem, actually.

I’ve been trying a new system where I eat only what I really like.

It’s similar to my bachelor diet, only without the cigarettes and

alcohol and with more food. Its drawback is that it isn’t what Patti

Jo and most dietitians call “balanced,” and after three days it

leaves me more or less incapacitated.

But I don’t want to make it sound as if everything falls apart

when she’s away. Each time she returns there are the same number of

living creatures in the house as when she left, if not more.

And if, as she said, I looked a little haggard when she got back

this time, well, you’d be haggard too if you’d been eating fried

foods and flipping pillows for four days.