There are many factors that make a good man.
Too many, in fact, to write about here. So I’m just going to write about one of the many things that makes my Chico wonderful.
(Of course, you’ll soon realize, that while I am singing his praises, this is all really about me.)
“There’s only Black Rush Irish whiskey in the cabinet,” I said, tripping over the grocery bags in the kitchen.
“Black Rush? Do you mean, Black Bush, Jane?”
It was 9:30am and I was trying to put away groceries when my dad called on FaceTime. I struggled to hold my phone in one hand and put things away with the other.
That’s when he ordered me to the liquor cabinet.
Let me back up.
I’ve got a cold. And this being The Time of Covid, any cold or flu-like symptoms are worrisome. It’s nothing major, just a slightly runny nose, some sneezes and achey sinuses.
I mentioned this to my dad and his advice was: “Have a shot of Irish whiskey, warmed up with some honey and lemon juice in it. Right before bed. It does wonders.”
“Dad,” I said, “we don’t have whiskey. We don’t drink liquor.”
“Yes you do! I bought two bottles when I visited! Where’s your liquor cabinet?”
We don’t have a liquor cabinet as such. Just the cabinet above the stove in the kitchen. You know, the one that’s hard to get to without a stool and therefore used to store things we hardly ever use. Like whiskey.
“Open it!” he ordered.
Which is why, while I was emptying grocery bags into the fridge, I turned, tripped over a couple bags, and reached up to peer into the “liquor cabinet.”
Discombobulated, Part 2
“Black Rush? Do you mean, Black Bush, Jane?” He chuckled.
I closed my eyes and tried to think how to make a joke out of it.
“No, it’s Slack Lush, Dad.”
Bingo! That set him giggling. I relaxed a bit. It always feels good to make my dad laugh, seeing as he’s usually the one getting everyone else to crack up.
I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, the “liquor cabinet” open, grocery bags strewn around me and the open fridge beeping angrily at me, my father on FaceTime, and the prospect of a day facilitating distance learning ahead of me.
The whiskey might be a good idea after all, I thought.
That’s When Chico Found Me
I opened my eyes, and there he was. My husband. He was smiling at me, looking bemused.
He said, “Would you like a cup of tea?”
A smile spread across my face. Just the word tea made me feel better. A small, tinny voice piped up from out of my phone.
“Yes, get her a cup of tea for goodness’ sakes, Arturo! I think we may be losing her!”
A couple more jokes, a bit more giggling, and soon the groceries were put away, the tea was in front of me, and I was sitting down to finish up my chat with my dad.
As he left the kitchen to head back down into his home office, my husband’s strong hand gently squeezed my shoulder.
I glanced up at his smiling face, and breathed a quick prayer of thanks.
For tea. And for this wonderful man who really knows how to make a good cuppa.