Living Retired – ‘CELEBRATING CONFINEMENT’

LIVING RETIRED: ‘CELEBRATING CONFINEMENT’

What can I say? Jan and I completely lost it on Wednesday!

It was 12 months to the day that a Covid-19 state of emergency was declared.

It has been a long year of Covid Couple Confinement. Jan has suffered putting up with me – hand sanitizer dripping down my pant legs, bumbling my way through grocery stores smacking the cart into everyone’s ankles because I suffer from a medical condition called ‘Can’t See Squat’ when my face mask fogs my glasses, and being screamed at on Zoom, “Gary you’re on mute. TURN YOUR MIC ON!”

JAN AND I COULDN’T TAKE IT ANY LONGER!

It was time to disobey authority. I screamed, “Alexa, play ‘We’re Not Gonna’ Take It’ by Twisted Sister.”

Just like that our spontaneous 1st anniversary Covid Couple Confinement Celebration began – like a flash mob at the mall food court, but in our kitchen.

Before I could change into compression socks, Jan dashed downstairs – two steps at a time to get our Dollar Store party hats. That is when she hurt her back. Yikes! I ran to the bathroom cabinet for her Voltaren Extra Strength, and a tensor wrap for my baby boomer knees. This was going to be one wild, wicked party!

Next up on our playlist: “Alexa, play ‘Celebrate’ by Kool and The Gang.”

Jan and I are singing at the top of our lungs: “CELLLLL – A- BRATE GOOD TIMES. COME ON!”

I climbed up on top of our kitchen countertop, dancing. I’m bumping my chest against the hanging light fixture overtop the sink. For effect Jan flicks the light switch on and off. She claps her hands. With her best bad girl pout over near the subway backsplash Jan hollers, “Gary, turn it up! Make the music LOUDER!”

Now I am strutting back and forth on top the island countertop – picture in your mind Mick Jagger, but with no rhythm.

“CELLLLL – A – BRATE GOOD TIMES. COME ON!”

Jan is boogying down the hall – punching her arms above her head. Her hands flail up toward the ceiling in sync to the music. “CELLLLL – A – BRATE GOOD TIMES. COME ON!”

Jan prances into the guest bathroom with its decorator hand towels and artisan eucalyptus soap. The music reaches a feverish pitch! “CELLLLL – A – BRATE GOOD TIMES. COME ON!”

On the kitchen countertop I yank the faucet pull-out spray hose and stretch it to my mouth for a microphone. “CELLLLL – A – BRATE GOOD TIMES. COME ON!”

This party is just getting started!

“Alexa, play ‘Gloria.’”

The stereo speakers are pounding, pulsating!

“G – L – O – R – I – A. GLORRR – REE — UH!”

Jan is now in the guest bedroom – plumping pillows. “G – L – O – R – I –A.  GLORRR – REE – UH!”

Then. It happened. OMG!!!

I slipped on the kitchen island countertop. Down I went. My rump is wedged in the double sink! My legs and feet stretch toward the floor. I’m squashed! Nothing I do to extricate myself works. I’m going to have to scream loud overtop the music for Jan!

“I’M STUCK!! I’M STUCK!!”

Alexa, “Okay, playing ‘Stuck in The Middle with You’ by Steelers Wheel.”

Luck is with me. Jan came to my rescue. Immediately she knew what to do.

“Gary, I’m going to post a picture on Facebook. This going to trend on Twitter!”

What is wrong with this picture? I can’t get up off my duff because its stuffed in a sink, and the first thing my wife wants to do is post a photo of my mishap so she can get ‘likes’; AND the music is deafening: ‘Clowns to the left of me! Jokers to the right! Here I am stuck in the middle with you.’

Hey everyone. Happy 1st anniversary Covid Couple Confinement Celebration!

I hope yours was picture perfect.