Timesaver

Timesaver


“It’s the latest and greatest invention ever. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

Jack always bought the latest and greatest inventions. I’m scared to think what was coming now. What would add to the clutter in the garage? Or the attic. Or the basement.

“What’s coming this time?” I tried not to sound skeptical.

“Oh honey, it’s so amazing!” Jack sprung from the recliner. He indicated the size, the shape. “About this big and this wide. An automatic underwear applier!”

My mouth dropped open. Then I started to laugh.

“I saw it on TV. It’s all the rage! It’ll save time in the morning.” He stopped talking. “Why are you laughing?”

I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t talk.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“I can,” I stopped, it was hard to breathe I was laughing so hard. “see you,” trying to breathe still, “standing there.” Now it was impossible. I doubled over, tears ran down my face. I dropped to the floor, curled into a ball.

“In the middle of the bedroom! A machine dressing you!” I bellowed and kicked out my legs.

Jack glared at me, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, that’s not very kind. Quit acting like a child. You’ll see. It’ll be great.”

A week later Jack’s still mad at me. I made him go to the clinic for his sprained groin. The first time he tried the automatic underwear applier, his right leg got pulled too far when the device grabbed his ankle. I heard a yelp, then a thud as Jack hit the floor. The EMTs had a chuckle as they discussed how to extricate him from the machine without destroying any delicate body parts.

It did save him some time. He got to spend a week at home with me, off work.
W/C 295