What to do if there’s a fire2November 11th, 2010Uncategorized
I don’t know who the hell Ethan thinks he is. He walks around with this sense of entitlement: falling asleep, farting, leaving dirty underwear balled up behind the rhododendron at work. He sashays down halls full of people, stinking up the place like there’s no one around, while I am left to carry the burden of shame.
He also falls asleep at totally inappropriate times, like when we’re talking to doctors or negotiating with professionals. One time he fell asleep driving and crashed into a cement slab. Since then, when we take long trips I watch his eyes like a hawk. Every time he blinks, I panic, screeching, “Are you falling asleep?”
Secretly, I am envious of his ability to act as if societal rules are beneath him. He takes his pants sans crotch, thank you very much, and will announce to people that he’s going to the bathroom.
The other day at parent-teacher night, he left me standing in the eye of the storm, in a cloud of what I first mistook for a dog fart. There I was, surrounded by parents, red faced and guilty, not because I had issued the foul thing, but because I knew who had.
He’s just so infuriatingly relaxed about everything. Meanwhile, I can’t even get into bed without my pants on because I’m afraid the house will catch on fire and I’ll end up outside in my underwear.
Here’s the dialogue in my head just before I retire:
“Oh, I love these sheets! It would feel great to sleep without my pants on tonight…”
“Don’t be a fool, Ami. What if there’s a fire? What if you can’t get into your pants in time? You know what could happen! Now—pants on!”
And there’s Ethan. Spreadeagle, snoring and naked as he came.