After so many years the nows have stacked up. Nows are like laundry piling up in an overflowing hamper. Finally a rainy day comes along and you dump that laundry out and scatter it across the bedroom floor.
Whites, solids, sweaters, socks and underwear, pants, sheets and towels.
Good days, bad days, cloudy days, sunny days, celebrations, defeats, milestones and setbacks.
Once you get that laundry clean, folded and put away you feel accomplished. The satisfaction of an empty laundry basket is a delight.
Putting good nows in the top drawer and bad nows in the garbage also gives gratification and pleasure.
I had a handful of nows over the weekend. I’m gonna make pancakes now. I’m gonna do homework now. I’m gonna watch rugby now. I’m gonna make brownies now. I’m gonna tuck you in now. I’m gonna take you to your mom now.
That last now is still a hard one for me. Every other Sunday when the redheads leave Riverside still knots up my belly.
I’ve gotta make these nows count so when the Shepkids do their laundry they’ll know how to sort their nows. Take the good nows with the bad nows.
It’s National Pickle Day…. I love pickles from the relish on my hotdog to the pickle in my Bloody Mary.
I remember a now at my Gramma’s house in Broad Ripple. I can still taste that ham sandwich on homemade bread with bread and butter pickles. I’d do anything to get that now back and tell my Gramma this is the best fucking sandwich ever.
Wait, I was nine! I can’t say “fucking” to my Gramma. She’ll shit and then she’ll kill me!
“Gramma, this is a great sandwich and now is the best day!”
