Do you have your very own marine biologist to change your Betta fish’s water? I do. I pay her with leftover enchiladas and stories about all the crazy people I’ve known in my life. She likes the stories and I like that when she leaves my house, it’s always cleaner than when she came and I always feel better about my life.
She does a good job hiding the fact that she may be judging me because I don’t eat organic biodegradable recycled soy milk or use free-range toilet paper. When I feed her and tell her not to ask what’s in the Mexican food, she doesn’t ask what’s in the Mexican food.
Tonight I invited her over to share some reheated culinary loveliness if she promised to close her eyes to the abundant evidence that I’d had several friends and their precious spawn in and out of my house all day, and hosted and cooked for a birthday luncheon. The main floor of my house was covered in a thick blanket of playdate sputum and I was seriously contemplating waiting 24 hours to remember what I wrote earlier this week and get my act together.
So while I rattled around in the kitchen, popping the pan of enchiladas back in the oven and nuking the other leftovers, she asked what she could do to help. Like any embarrassed woman would do, I told her not to worry about it and for heck’s sake to keep her shoes on when walking on my crusty kitchen floor.
She went into the family room and started picking up toys with unnatural speed. She picked up books, cars, blocks and spit-soaked Spiderman-flavored cheese crackers. She put away toys the kids thought they were still using and said, “Out of sight, out of mind.” In 20 minutes she managed to tidy up my entire main floor, the main floor that had looked like a tornado-ravaged Value Village. Then she joined me in the kitchen where I was ineffectually shuffling the dishes who were waiting for their turn in the magical automatic dish washing shower stall. In my house, dishes who are capable of washing themselves are never subjected to hand washing. It just wouldn’t be right.
She stepped to the sink and started rinsing the waiting dishes. She separated them according to shape, size and possibly color. As she went to dump some plastic silverware in an opaque pitcher of water to soak, she noticed something moving in the water and jumped, “AH! I almost dumped these dirty dishes in with your fish!”
I apologized for keeping JackAgain in a dish so near the drain board. He’d been there for 4 days because I was “cleaning his fishbowl.” In a miraculously non-judgmental tone, that somehow communicated “I want to save the dolphins but I still like you,” she insisted that he be moved back to his bowl immediately before he had a heart attack from the stress of his current living arrangements.
So she cleared out one side of the sink and brought his nasty stinky bowl of old ishy water over to wash. What happened next is a blur but there was a loud crash, Laylee had appeared out of nowhere, was now smiling up at me too innocently to really be innocent and the floor was covered in blech.
I muttered something about how much it stunk as I ran upstairs to get some towels. “It’s okay,” my neighbor called from the kitchen. “At least it doesn’t smell as bad as a dead whale.” She’s a marine biologist. She’s seen and smelled things I hope never to experience in my lifetime. She cleaned my house and saved the whales living in it. She ate my not-from-Whole-Foods food and asked for my recipes. She kept me company on another long lonely night and she told me I was a good mom.
I want to be that kind of friend. I know I’m grateful to have a few.
Awwww, what a great friend!! I have one of those — sort of a combo Energizer bunny, Rachel Ray and human Swifter. I LOVE it when she visits!!
P.S. Just curious why you have a smiling Colomiban gentleman and his lovely burro on your blog? 🙂
a lovely tribute to friendship…
Good friends are better than gold! I hope that I can be a friend like this!
Kerry
So sweet! I have a dear friend like this, too – we’re so lucky!
BTW, your lovely smiley “stop touching me” avatar always reminds me of Miss Hoolie from Balamory – http://www.sofacinema.co.uk/guardian/images/products/5/23005-large.jpg
Don’t you love friends like that? I hope someone else sees me that way…I try to be like that, but I don’t really do dead whale smells, so I guess I’m not as good as your friend.
when can she come to MY house? I need this kind of friend!!!
She’s a keeper. Anyone who will go near a Betta Fish bowl, let alone clean it, is a keeper.
I now have a picture of toilet paper roaming free in a pasture singing ‘Don’t Fence Me In’. Thanks for that.
Would you mind sending your friend over to my house for a visit? I’d promise to take good care of her!
You are one blessed woman indeed! (And that is why all my friends are blog friends. It’s a whole lot easier for me than actually cleaning my house.)
Having a house cleaning marine biologist for your fishy is all well and good but I want me an assistant that looks like the guy in the Method house. He wuz cute!!!!
I know I like your friend. 🙂 And your writing gets better all the time. I need to keep blogging so I can become a better writer. You are a star.
I didn’t know fish could be traumatized, but then again I’m not a marine biologist of any degree. What a great friendship; you like each other and don’t judge each other. 🙂
Oh, THIS is what you were talking about last night! She sounds like an excellent neighbor, and friend. You’re lucky to have her so close! Plus, any friend who’ll eat my leftovers is a keeper!
I had a blast at the party! Thank you for everything! You all are amazing!
Oh, don’t worry, DYM – I’m sure there are OTHER things your house smells better than, besides just a dead whale.
And I only say that because that’s the kind of friend _I_ am.
I think we all need a few friends like that!