My first stepfather was a piece of work, in that sneaky way some men have of ferreting out weakness, and he enjoyed telling me I was wrong. Which, I mean, I was a kid, obviously I was wrong A LOT. No question! But if I was right, which did happen occasionally, it didn’t matter.
Now, it may come as a shock to you, dear reader, but I am a trifle argumentative by nature. I would fight my corner every time. But my mom hated conflict and would tell me to drop it, which meant he got in the habit of starting crap just so that she’d tell me to drop it.
I would just like to point out that some of us here on Twitter.com love beans for good and wholesome reasons that do not involve making small children miserable.
Embrace the wonders of the heirloom bean! It is a good and noble plant and while it does come in its own little packaging, you will not require a can opener!
They have history! Lineage! Occasionally even sagas!
I ran into two friendly acquaintances while we were out and told them I hoped 2021 would be better. One told me how she was just diagnosed with severe arthritis in her spine (!!) and the other told us about her brother-in-law’s murder in September (!!!!)
So, uh, y’know, actually my 2020 was fantastic, I don’t know what I was whining about.
But they were both wearing masks and the nice lady who used to work in the garden center begged us to be careful because you know, a lot of people believe COVID isn’t real, but they’re so wrong.
So our dryer has been broken for awhile and the part is back ordered because factories making dryer parts are not essential services and we’ve been using the only laundry service in our small town, which is run by a nice Filipino woman, who of course likes Kevin.
She says to Kevin today “I met your wife!”
Kevin says yes, and that I work, he works, the dryer is still broken, and we are very grateful she does laundry so one of us is not sitting in the laundromat for hours a week.
She considers this, then says “You are busy. She is busy. Do not fix your dryer. Only twenty dollars here, much cheaper than fixing dryer.”
All the recent Catholic Discourse makes me a little sad that my short story didn’t win the Hugo at Dublin Worldcon, because that was the only time I was ever gonna have the chance to give the speech about my grandmother’s Catholic polyamory to a primarily Catholic audience.
For those who have not heard the tale, Grandma was a woman of strong appetites and equally strong folk Catholicism, which meant that she strongly objected to sex outside of marriage. Her solution was just to marry each of them and then, when they tapped out, get divorced.
But this was long ago—Grandma was a Rosie the Riveter in WW2—and divorces were tricky and annulments, which of course she also had to get, required the Church’s approval.