A Wry smile

          In the early 1990’s I was working two jobs; as a clerk-typist for Indiana Vocational Rehabilitation and as a part-time barber/hair stylist.  I enjoyed the barber job, but the administrative job with the state had better health insurance.  And I needed the extra money for make financial ends meet. 

Things that stay put!

          I was living alone, which was why I was stretched financially.  But I preferred living on my own. 

          One evening, as I was working at the franchised hair styling shop, I was sitting and chatting with one of the girls.  Jacqui, (not her real name), was married with two teen-aged boys.  As we were eating our dinner, we were discussing the differences of living alone verses living with other people.

          “I’m glad it’s slow tonight.  I’m really tired.”  I say. “At least when I get home tonight, I can go straight to bed.” 

          “It was busier earlier.  That’s why I went to the KFC.”  Jacqui said.  “My husband will probably want to talk.  But that’s okay.”

          “I guess that’s one good thing about living alone.  I can go to bed whenever I want.  I can even lie spread-eagle in the middle of my queen-sized bed  if I want.”  I mentioned casually.

          “My husband’s pretty flexible about when we go to bed.  Plus we’ve got a king-sized bed.  Plenty of room to spread out.”

          “What’s really nice about being single is that I’ve got enough clothes—including socks and underwear—to last me a month.  I go buy a roll of quarters, take the clothes down to the laundry room, load up four washers, then go back to my apartment. Thirty-five minutes later I go downstairs, transfer all four loads into the dryers.  Go back upstairs and watch tv for a while.  An hour later I go back down to the laundry-mat, hang up everything on hangers, except my smalls.  Then I take everything upstairs, dump the socks and underwear on the bed, hang up the other stuff in the closet.  Then I can watch television and finish folding the smalls.  All done in about three hours,  for the month.”

          “Oh, laundry isn’t a problem for me.”  She eats a fry, then continues.  “I taught my boys to do laundry when they were younger.  So they take care of their own.  And my husband takes care of his own laundry.  Plus he does mine as well.  I don’t do laundry because he does.”

          “Can’t argue with that.”  I nod and take a drink of my diet coke.  “At least I have sole control of the remote to the television.”

          “The boys have televisions in their rooms.” Jacqui explains.  “And there is a large tv in the master bedroom as well as our living room.  So if I want to watch something else, I can go to the bedroom.”

          I dipped another French fry into ketchup and pondered a minute.  “At least I don’t have to worry about cooking meals for the family.  I can cook or just have a bowl of cereal for when I’m hungry.”

          “My sons like to cook, so they will do their own thing.  And my husband is good at cooking as well.  I only cook if we are getting together on the weekend or if I want to.”

          I was beginning to think she had an answer for everything.  I took a bite of my chicken sandwich.  About then someone came into the back area, looking for something. 

          “There is a big advantage though about living alone.  When you put something down, it is still there when you go back for it.”

          Jacqui paused a moment, pondering what I’d said.  She nodded and said, “Well, you got me there.”

          I gave her a wry smile.  It wasn’t triumph I felt, but comfort that I’d found a true blessing in my singleness that was irrefutable. 

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,

“Lady Helene”