It’s Saturday morning and Charlie’s running ‘round like a chicken with it’s head cut off. In and out, in and out. Door slamming. Muttering to himself. Finally, he gets into his truck and starts ‘er up. I breath a sigh of relief, sit down, and begin making my list of things to do for the day.

Next thing I know, Charlie’s barging in the house again.

“Ida, you see my wallet?”

“Did you look in yesterday’s pants?”

Grumble, grumble, grumble and he stomps down the hall to the bedroom.

I spy his wallet on the kitchen table under the newspaper beside his empty coffee cup. “It’s in here, Charlie.”

So, I walk over to the counter to get another cup of coffee, look out the window just in time to see Charlie’s truck rolling down the drive. “Charlie!” I shout, “Your truck!”

“What?”

“Your truck! It’s rolling down the drive.”

“Jeesum crow!” he yells. (Well, that’s not exactly what he said, but close enough.) And we both run outside.

“No!” I shout, as the truck slowly veers to the right, taking out my blue hydrangea, then bumps into the big pine, where it stops.

Cursing under his breath, Charlie hops into the cab and drives it forward, running over my hydrangea yet again. “Charlie!”

He puts the truck in “park,” yanks on the emergency brake and jumps out, running over to the pine tree.

“Wasn’t going that fast. Took a little bark off, is all.” Then he inspects his bumper. “See? No harm done.”

“Tell that to my blue hydrangea. What’s going on, Charlie? Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Gotta get down to the transfer station.”

“It’s 9:00, Charlie! Dump don’t close ‘til 3:00.”

“Well, after the transfer station, I gotta go to Bouchard’s and get some mulch. Then I gotta stop by Agway and pick up my weed wacker. I gotta fix that fence….”

“You’re suffering from a bad case of gotta’s, Mister. Slow down or my hydrangea is not the only thing that’s gonna get hurt.”

“I just gotta lot on my plate right now. Look, I need to get to the transfer station.”

“Go!” He starts getting into the truck. “And don’t forget your wallet. It’s on the kitchen table.” I just shake my head.

Honest to God! Men and multi-tasking do not mix. It causes a short circuit in their brain and systems start to shut down. I’m aware of this, so when it comes to my honey-do list or social engagement, we operate on a strictly “need to know basis.” The trouble is when he starts making his own list of things to do, fools himself into thinking he can do it all in a day and gets overwhelmed. That’s when the “you know what” hits the fan. He gets three steps ahead of himself and that’s not good.

My remedy? Help him prioritize (if he’ll let me). And make him stop, slow down, maybe eat lunch. A tuna melt and BBQ potato chips usually do the trick.

When Charlie gets back from his errands late morning, he hollers to me from out in the driveway, “Hey Ida, come out here a minute, will ya?”

So I stop what I’m doing and go outside. “What is it, Charlie? I’m busy cleaning.”

“Got you a new blue what-cha-ma-call-it. Where do you want me to plant it?”

Oh, that Charlie! Guess who got extra cheese on his tuna melt?

That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!

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