When Sarge and I were first dating, I was living in an apartment in Boston with three other girls. We were in college, but for all of us, it was our first time with our own kitchen. We loved to cook and bake.
And of course, when my new boyfriend came over, I just LOVED to bake for him. Because, you know, that's what you are supposed to do. But it never failed, I always forgot an ingredient. And usually didn't discover that I didn't have the ingredient until I was ready to use that ingredient. Sarge would laugh and then trot down four flights of stairs to the convenience store and purchase the ingredient that I'd forgotten.
It became a joke. Ha, ha, what are you going to forget this time? I'd insist that I had all the ingredients. But then wouldn't have something essential. It always happened. Sarge, because it was all still fresh and new, found it mildly irritating, but I'm sure thought it was adorable. Because you know when everything is fresh and new, quirks are adorable.
Fast forward fifteen years. I have a kitchen of my own, which is usually well enough stocked, but I also have grown up neighbors that actually have eggs, not like the people in college who have beer and ketchup in their refrigerators. So he doesn't even usually know when I forget an ingredient anymore.
BUT. My cute and adorable quirk has transferred to my work. I can't get to a person's house to hang their curtains and have all the ingredients I need to hang them. Usually the item that I need is something that I knew I would need, just didn't manage to remember it before I got there. And of course, who do I call to rescue me? Sarge.
I'm pretty sure he doesn't find it cute and adorable anymore. He had to rescue me from myself twice yesterday. My client said to him, "She's very impressive with her skills with tools!" and he replied, deadpan, "She'd be more impressive if she could just remember them."