Togetherness

As I mentioned, David is out of a job. In the short term, this is terrific because we've been passing in the night for, like, 9 years and we're thoroughly enjoying having our days to spend together and the bit of extra flexibility it provides with 5 children (as in, thank you that I don't have to take all 5 children with me to the gynecologist).

We'll worry about the long-term later. Like, after Christmas. David is spectacularly good at what he does (even though I'm not completely clear on what he does, but it has something to do with testing and quality assurance in the IT realm) and I know something will work out. But right now, he's very happy being one of the many men at the park who stand around and kibbitz about how long they've been out of work.

The word kibbitz made me think of Mollie. Mollie, if you're reading this, I miss you!

I told David not to worry about looking for a new job until after the holidays. "It's been a long couple of years," I said. "Take some time and enjoy the kids and your time. Go hunt something." (I can't believe I suggested that.)

Today we went to Target. (We're trying to stimulate the economy. Is that so bad?). I suggested we get some cans of soup for dinner. You know, to conserve cash.

"I don't want to buy cans of soup. I want to make my own soup," David announced.

Okay?

"But I don't know what to make. I can't focus. I don't have a recipe. Should we go home right now and let me look through cookbooks and come up with something and then we can come back?"

No.

He threw some items in the cart and agreed to figure it out later.

We then got to the toy aisle.

"Oh, look at the Lego sets," he commented. "These are fantastic. The boys would love these."

"David, have you noticed how many pieces that kit has? 753. Have you lost your mind?"

"No, but I'm just saying..."

I was already 2 aisles over.

"David," I inquired. "Didn't you say you needed socks?"

"Yes, but we're not spending money on socks. Can't you darn them?"

I almost didn't acknowledge that I'd heard him but my second personality took over before I could stop her.

"This is the year 2008. No one darns socks. Buy a freaking bag of socks."

"That's okay," he answered. "Socks can wait."

Okay?

And then, every aisle went something like this:

"David, we need wrapping paper."

"Can't we make that?"

No.

"David, we need formula."

"Can't you make that?"

No.

"David, we need shampoo."

"Can't you make that?"

No.

"Liz, I need eggnog."

Yeah, No.

By the time we exited, I said, "David, watcha doin' this afternoon?"

"Nothing, why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Feel like job hunting?"