I was married before my current husband. Most people who read this blog probably knew this, but I thought I'd mention a bit about my ex-husband before getting into this post.
His name is Eric, and he is a very decent man. We weren't meant to be, as the saying goes and decided to go our separate ways after being married for several years. He has a wife and two children now, just as I do. We keep in contact and from time to time, see each other at social functions or catch up by getting together for lunch.
Sometimes we text or call each other if we have questions the other one might be able to help with. For instance, Eric called me and we talked at length about LEGOs a while back because Julianna, his daughter, was single-minded in her interest with LEGOs at the time and he knew we had organized our loose LEGOs in such a way to make them conducive for open-ended creative play while at the same time being easy to clean up and maintain.
I contact Eric for tech support on occasion. My long-standing email address is with his domain. Typically though, I have a question about something more challenging to resolve than would be manageable via a Google search. He has always been one of the most knowledgeable IT people I've known.
This post is about a problem he had that he texted me about thorough. And a funny one at that. He messaged, saying, "Hey, random question. Where was the washer and dryer in new Yadkin? I seriously can not remember."
I got the message. I got ready to reply and realized I didn't know. He and I had lived in that particular house for a number of years. I did laundry regularly. How is it I couldn't picture in my mind where the laundry was? It wasn't a large house. How could there be a serious gap in my locational memory like that?
He and I texted back and forth, saying things like, "it wasn't in the room where the litter boxes were, the room was too small," and "it wasn't off the master, the only doors in that room were to the closet and the bathroom." We narrowed down the final (and correct) location by mapping out the house and eliminating all the places it couldn't have been. We came to the answer about the same time, texting similar messages of, "it had to be on the left side of the hallway heading towards the master."
And then we remembered. We both could picture the poorly-designed folding doors that opened into a narrow space just deep enough for the washer and dryer. I could imagine the white metal shelf above where I kept the detergent, fabric softener, and dryer sheets. I wouldn't say it flooded back, because it didn't. It slowly coalesced from dark memories some twenty years prior.
We both laughed about it and echoed sentiments of worrisome memory issues to each other. But mystery solved. Question answered. It wasn't until the next day that I realized I didn't even ask him why he had been wondering about the laundry room from our past.
The Big Boy Update: My son sometimes can't handle change well. Today Madison and I rearranged some things in the children's bedroom based on a request of hers to have the kitchen items out so she and my daughter could play with them. I moved a lamp, shifted a chair down, and we had room to put the small wooden refrigerator and stove/cabinet set along the wall where the window was. My son came down after bedtime tonight in a barely contained fit of anger. He stated, "I hate change. The first thing was when Reese went blind, and that was horrible. And now this."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Last Friday night during Movie Night, I was having an allergic reaction to something. I needed to run to the pharmacy and get some Benadryl. I told my daughter I needed to go down to the basement and ask for a car to move so I could get out. She ran in front of me down the stairs and announced loudly to the room, "my mom's having an allergic reaction and needs to go to the pharmacy, and somebody's dirty car is in the way." Everyone laughed as I told them, "silver car, not dirty car."
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