Booze Battle

I celebrated my 44^th birthday today with a visit to a dermatologist.  Because I know how to live.  They were playing Guns N Roses in the lobby, so it wasn’t all that bad.  I’ve been seeing the same doctor for several years and she knows me pretty well.  I told her about a few concerns I had and she said “I find that when dealing with you, it’s best not to worry about how something happened but just to make a plan of attack and deal with it.”  I gave her Jeff’s phone number so she could provide this wisdom to him for future use.

In other Jeff news, what the hell happens to men after too many years of marriage that makes them totally helpless in the kitchen?  I know for a fact that Jeff can cook.  When we were dating, he could make a Blackened Chicken Alfredo that was so good you’d want to slap your Grandma. Mine slapped back. Fifteen years later, and he’s paralyzed by that tricky step between the kitchen sink and the dishwasher. I keep telling him there's no wrong way.  This is a guy who can pretty much repair anything that has moving parts.  Can rebuild a truck by hand from the frame up.  Can confidently converse in three languages.  Can spend 15 years in a row with me and not require medication or professional counseling.  But he can’t find the flipping salt shaker?  I blame myself.  Obviously I’ve over-spoiled him.

He doesn’t even attempt anything in the kitchen anymore without using me as a Sous Chef.  “LAB, where’s this….LAB where’s that…”  Seriously.  It’s all in the kitchen, pal.  That's where we keep it. Just look around. 

I’ve been trying to train him to have more kitchen independence.  Or retrain him.  Whatever.

He was making martinis last week and I decided it was the perfect time to make my point:

Jeff:  LAB, where are the martini glasses?

LAB: *sigh* In the liquor cabinet.  Where we keep glasses.

Jeff:   Where’s the Sweet & Sour?

LAB:  The fridge. Where we keep items that require refrigeration.

Jeff:   Do we have any more flavored vodka?

LAB:  Did you really just ask me that?

Jeff:   But I’m looking for the Absolut Kurant.

LAB:  I’m looking for a man who isn’t blind.

Jeff:   What?

LAB:  What?

Jeff:   I’m just asking where it is.

LAB: Would you just make the freaking drinks and leave me alone?

Jeff:  Sounds like somebody isn’t thirsty.

Obviously he won this round.  Withholding my martini is a knockout punch in this battle. My Kung Fu is not strong where liquor is concerned.  I should have known better.  I'll redouble my efforts next time he's making a bowl of cereal.  Baby steps, people.