This past Saturday, P had a test up on the Southside of Chicago so that she could continue teaching ESL until we leave this flatland. It was my duty, of course, to escort her up to this test and sit patiently whilst she complete it.
The morning of . . .
K: how long will it take?
P: well, there's 55 questions, an essay, and a 2 minute interview. The last part should be the shortest.
K: Thanks, where am I going to be during your test?
P: Find a Starbucks.
K: I don't like coffee. How will I know when you are done if I have the cell phone and am off site, so to speak.
P: Guess you can't go to Starbucks.
K: you want me to sit in the car. . .
P: yes [sheepishly].
K: have fun.
P: nooooo, you promised.
K: let me get this straight, you want me to lose four hours of worktime driving you to and from this test, and then you want me to lose however long your test takes because you want me to sit in a hot car in a Southside Chicago school parking lot?
P: well, I guess you don't have to. . . .
K: yeah right, I know what that means (I am not getting a PhD for nothing)
P: it won't be that bad, we'll get a really good dinner afterwards.
K: wow, that's an incentive.
So, I go. I sit, and sit and sit.
To be fair, the school was nice, and I sat at a park bench outside of it during a relatively cool day. And then . . . Three hours in, I am minding my own business, reading a book, and a bee from hell flies next to me and stings me just underneath my left armpit. To my knowledge, I am not allegeric to bees, so I keep it cool, "man it up" if you will, but two days later, that dang bee-sting is itching like there's no tomorrow. We got some stuff for it, but it literally kept me up for a good portion of the night. It's itching right now, probably will itch all day.
At least I got a good dinner.
2 comments:
Hey Forest! Maybe it was a bullet that bit you instead of a bee.
Ha! Love hurts sometimes, you are such a good husband - glad dinner was yummy.
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