P.O. Box 41, 4000 Dundas Street West, Toronto, ON M6S 2T7
Senor OCD is being promoted to Senior OCD tomorrow (it’s his 65th birthday) and I want to try and be nice to him. To be fair, he needs to be vindicated from all the gossip against him. I mean, if not now when he’s ageing (not so gracefully), then when?
He has decided that he is done with adults and wants to spend his birthday only with his four grandchildren so guess who’s coming for a sleepover? The excitement is palpable (for Senor OCD) and he’s been busy planning a camp in the living room, a pillow fight, movie, popcorn, ice-cream, games, prizes and unlimited snacks – I hope their parents are not reading this. This is one time he’s not thinking of keeping the condo clean as he already has cleaning lady lined up for next week so he’s letting go (a bit).
To give him his full due, Senor OCD is a total charmer. After all, 43 years together has proven this. However, he is a charmer not just to me but to most people around him (as those of you who know him, will vouch). Especially if he wants to get some work out of you, he can work those baby brown eyes and chubby cheeky smile to full advantage and you’ll find yourself hard pushed to say no.
This is a strategy I never learned which remains much to my disadvantage.
Today the handyman came to do some work. Robert is in his seventies (but still a sharp cookie) and from old Italian stock. I guess the times he grew up in were largely patriarchal (and I mean this in a totally factual, non-offensive way). As I opened the door, he asked “where is your husband?” I said “he’s gone to the bank but I can show you where the work needs to be done”. Fifteen minutes later Robert asked me again “so where’s your husband?” I said “he’ll be back soon”. Then Robert asked me if he could have a bowl and added “your husband knew where it is”. When I produced the bowl, Robert said “Ha this is one your husband gave me”.
Seriously? Is Senor OCD giving off vibes that the wife does not know where anything is in the house?
By the way, while Robert was looking for him Senor OCD had gone to see if he can get a head oil massage. The owner of the beauty parlor he goes to said they are not allowed to give head massages but the two young ladies said “No – this uncle is special” so they took him into a side room and gave him a 20 minutes head massage. Uncle indeed! Lucy, his regular haircutter will drop all clients for him as well. Oh the perks of having a fan club made up mostly of women.
Then I go to the dry-cleaning store which is run by a lovely Vietnamese girl called Kim. As soon as she sees me Kim says “where he?” I explain that ‘he’ is busy. She takes the clothes from me with not much of a smile. As I leave, she smiles a big smile and says “say hello to him and tell him next time he come – okay?”. Okee dokee. I get the message.
The lady who does the laundry doesn’t even want to see me. She calls Senor OCD “honey bunch” and actually folds his underwear (something I refuse to do as a dutiful wife) so he ensures that she gets presents on Christmas and any other occasion. So, when I go to Pakistan, Senor OCD’s shopping list is full of women’s presents which is embarrassing to explain to my family for whom this whole fan club phenomenon is an anomaly.
Not to forget, there are the ladies from his airline stint. I still remember at least five of them telling me they were his “airport wives”….hai wish someone had told them he’s allowed only four and I get all the travel benefits!
Oh, did I mention Yu Yu the massage therapist who talks non-stop and he listens to her without comment! And the Mississauga ladies who cook for him which I use to my advantage.
Did I tell you that Senor OCD is a collector? I once saw a TV show about hoarders and seriously wanted to suggest OCD as a subject of interest. Like a chipmunk he collects and hoards every small thing – not being able to throw anything away. So, when he sees me (rarely) going to throw something out, he knows I’m hiding something I don’t want him to see. Actually, I wait for him to go out and then quickly clear the ages old stash. Today while tidying the kitchen cupboard (okay I actually DO sometimes so stop smirking) I found old Chinese fortune cookies, dried soy sauce and hot sauce packages, ages old sugar packets and teabags, dried up cookies and much more (to gross to mention) so I packed them in a bag but he actually checked the garbage (Senor OCD does that regularly) and saw them. I made sure he couldn’t retrieve the stuff by putting soggy veggie shavings on top. Two can play at the game of messy vs clean you know.
He’s still pouting.
But all in all, when he spends his birthday with his beloved grandchildren, he will mellow (I hope)