Hubby has dis­cov­ered on­line shop­ping

South Shore Breaker - - AUTO - Les­ley.crewe@gmail.com

LES­LEY CREWE ARE YOU KID­DING ME?

There’s been an un­ex­pected hic­cup with my hus­band’s med­i­cal re­cov­ery. Be­fore his health scare, he never sat down ex­cept to eat. He was busy ev­ery minute of ev­ery day. After 40 years of mar­riage, I was used to it. Then BAM. Now he has to take things slowly and he’s not happy about it, which means I’m not happy about it.

And now I’m livid.

He’s dis­cov­ered on­line shop­ping.

Since it’s not as easy to roar off in the car any­more, he spends hours look­ing at the com­puter, track­ing down tools our chil­dren might need now that they are both home­own­ers.

“Look at this! A corded mul­t­i­crafter kit. Sev­enty-five per cent off !”

“What does it do and who needs it?”

“Oh, it’s very handy. And they’ve got an eight-out­let power bar on sale and ... whoa, Nelly! ... they’re prac­ti­cally giv­ing away this 18V cord­less drill!”

“When was the last time our kids did any­thing re­motely handy? You’ve al­ways rushed in and done it for them.”

“They have to learn to fend for them­selves.”

“Ex­actly. Why don’t you let them buy this stuff them­selves if they need it so badly?”

“They don’t know they need it. Be­sides, Christ­mas is com­ing. What a bet­ter time to buy gifts!”

The gifts I’m think­ing of in­volve the peren­nial favourites; py­ja­mas, books, games, mitts, sweaters, on a good year maybe a cell­phone. I can’t wait to see their faces this year when they open up a stud fin­der and ratchet set.

I think I’ve men­tioned my wrist prob­lem. Thanks to my hus­band, I am now the proud owner of three dif­fer­ent types of wrist straps: one for ev­ery­day use, one for rak­ing and an­other for lift­ing cars, should the oc­ca­sion arise.

He shouts from the kitchen ev­ery three min­utes. “Come see this! It’s a mar­ble cheese cut­ter. That’s handy.”

No, it’s not. It’ll fill up what lit­tle kitchen coun­ter­top space I have.

“Ser­rated knives!” he booms. “Do we have enough of those?”

I now have men in large trucks ring­ing my door­bell at all hours of the day to de­liver pack­ages. I’m not used to this. We can go for years and not hear our door­bell chime, so I nor­mally live in over­sized, ho­ley jog­ging pants and py­jama tops. Now, I have to get dressed so I don’t scare th­ese peo­ple.

One of them dragged this huge box up to the door. “Golly! What’s this?”

“Looks like a snow­blower, ma’am.”

Oh right. I for­got he bought that, too. He also bought a new gen­er­a­tor and now wants a shed to put it in.

“You bet­ter hope the power goes out and it snows ev­ery­day from now un­til next Au­gust,” I grump.

I’m not sure how to live with this new crea­ture who scrolls through the end­less pages of Ama­zon and ebay. He in­sists on read­ing the de­scrip­tions of things out loud. I have to pre­tend I’m in­ter­ested for the first few sec­onds be­fore I grab the laun­dry bas­ket in des­per­a­tion and head downstairs with it.

“I’m not fin­ished!”

“I have stuff in the dryer. I can hear you! Keep talk­ing!”

I can’t hear him, thank good­ness, and I don’t have stuff in the dryer. I pet the cat for five min­utes be­fore I re-emerge back up­stairs.

“So, what do you think?” he says. “Should we get it?”

Stupid me.

Les­ley Crewe is a writer liv­ing in, and lov­ing, Cape Bre­ton. Th­ese are the me­an­der­ing mus­ings of a bored house­wife whose un­grate­ful kids left her alone with a re­tired hus­band and two fat cats who couldn’t care less. Her 10th novel, Be­holden, is be­ing re­leased this fall.

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On­line shop­ping isn’t for ev­ery­one.

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