P.O. Box 41, 4000 Dundas Street West, Toronto, ON M6S 2T7
(Full Disclosure: produced exactly as directed and dictated by OCD)
People are dying & the world in in a crisis. COVID 19, 5G (Haanhji) or Deep State Conspiracy – whatever it is, its here and we have to dutifully follow the directives (easy for me as I’m used to following directions).
We have two choices: either to get consumed by the misery laid out by media and social media and die being spooked before the virus even gets to us or build the ability to laugh at ourselves and have a smile on our face even if the virus hits us. We choose the latter.
To be honest, there’s no one I’d rather be with in quarantine or isolation than my wife of 43 years (on 25 June if we live till then). I have many names for her and they keep changing according to the circumstances. These days (and for the sake of this piece) I call her either Googles (because she knows everything) or Goodzilla (when she breaks everything).
These three weeks have actually been more intense than our 43 years together because (a) I always preferred to do shift work so the crossover was pleasant and (b) I had an escape plan every three months with friends. This entailed going to a Caribbean Island with clubbing, consumption, cigars, cuisine and eventually getting accosted by some form of authority (If you’ve seen Hangover 1, 2 and 3, you’ll get the picture).
Coming to the point: a lot has been said without my permission depicting me as some kind of clean freak, a nut-job who’s obsessed with house cleaning and an OCD – all of which is true.
I wake up every morning thinking it’s all over and I can go back to regular life. But when I turn around and see who’s sleeping beside me, I realize God wants to test me some more.
Now if I had taken advantage of sharia allowance, I would have had four wives. Then I could ‘socially distance’ them and give a new meaning to the term ‘self-isolation’ just like our beloved Prime Minister who refuses to come out of isolation.
Now that I’ve been labelled OCD by Goodzilla, let me say that somebody has to do the housework. After all I’ve been doing it for 42 years anyway. The first year she tinkered around pretending to clean the house to make a good impression and because her mother was still alive and she knew I would complain. She still pretends because we’re in isolation and just the other day she said “I’m sore from using the broom” and I replied “Next time take the car instead!”
Bottom line is that I truly love my wife and when all this is all over, I want us to renew our vows and take her to Wuhan for our honeymoon where I’ll treat her to the now world-famous Wuhan bat wedding soup.
If I live to tell another tale, I will. Otherwise be safe and healthy.