Catch

The man and I do have a groove. I know this. Our record needle has only been jumping around because we don't know what groove it is, not because we don't have one. Yesterday evening we had slipped back in that groove. Or I thought so.

Having just finished putting groceries away together, I was starting dinner and he was leaning against the kitchen counter, going over the receipt. I don't remember the conversation exactly. Something about the cost of canned mixed nuts and whether he should be consuming so many nuts considering he has the blood pressure of a 400 lb elderly man. He was fretting the cost. I was pointing out that perhaps just eating fewer would be a good compromise. Then the discussion shifted to the cost of Mt. Dew. I of course, asserted that the cost of dew doesn't even compare to the cost of a mental health facility.

At this point I realized I didn't need one of the onions I had out. I grabbed the spare onion (about the size of a baseball) and I said "Guess I don't need this one" and pelted the onion over-hand directly at The Man. We made eye contact while it was in the air. It thudded against his shoulder and then the floor. "Heeeeey!" I said, laughing. "That's not how it works! I toss things at you and you catch them, remember?"

"I'm looking at the receipt!"

"That never used to matter! I've always been able to throw things in your general direction and no matter how crazy the throw or distracted you appeared to be you would always catch them!"

"I was looking at the receipt!"

"We had eye contact! While it was in the air!" I shook my head tsking, "I've thrown a diaper at you from the living room through the hole in the kitchen wall while you were making dinner and you caught it." I stared at him with my what the hell posture, "This is a sad day, Man. If you don't get what I'm saying and I can't throw things at you… what do we even have?" We laughed.

Later, after dinner, we had a science project to work on. The girls had to dissect a fish. After we were done poking and prodding and playing with the fish The Man grabbed a plastic bag out of the recycling bag and held it open so I could slide the fish off the plate into it. There was a long moment when I was holding the plate tilted into the bag, trying to coax the fish guts off the plate.

"You're not going to throw out that plate." The Man said. My shoulders slumped.

"He's BACK!" Big D laughed and shouted. "Back on track now! He knew exactly what you were thinking!!" I nodded.

"I was thinking the plate couldn't be saved."

"And he KNEW!"

"Yeah. It was good." I was rinsing the plate in the sink by now. "But I like throwing things at him better."