So D2 and Jonathan, our roommates for the past 8 months, truly hoped to be in their Grove townhouse by now. The builder is proving to be a piece of work who would shame a used car salesman, and so they have now realized that closing on the unit will be a long, litigious slog. Likely, the builder is hoping that the buyers who signed contracts last year will walk away -- as he can get probably 25% more for his new units than their contracted sales price. But he picked on a strange demographic to try to rip off -- all of the buyers have plenty of money and resources, and are going to fight him to the end, even if they have to ask a Court to take over his company and appoint a receiver.
In any event, even though I am the best suegro in the history of suegros, and Wifey is a patient, albeit very eccentric suegra -- the kids want to move along with their lives. I certainly don't blame them. So yesterday they signed leases for a rental on Miami Beach -- a 'hood called Sunset Harbor, where several of their friends live. They'll likely move after Wifey and I return from our D.C. trip the first days of April -- so we'll get one last dog sit from them.
In the mean time, D1 was down at Ocean Reef on business, and stopped off at the house on the way home, lest she sit in intractable traffic from our place to NE Miami. It was lovely having the Ds together -- only they truly get what it was like to be raised by their quirky, albeit unconditionally loving parents. They're as close as, well, sisters.
Jonathan came home,and they all ordered in from the healthy place, Carrot Express, that they like. I poured my Friday evening drink and joined Eric and Dana's shabbat, and cooked my traditional Publix meat loaf and pasta. At 7 I opened the Zoom, and it was Josh and Barry for a bit, and then I begged off and retired to the Dining Room with the Ds, Wifey, and Jonathan.
Wifey was in hyper questioning mode -- about a plethora of topics -- and in my 3 drink chill, I actually just sort of observed with a sense of wonderment. She jumped around from Jonathan's job, to her need to travel, to the Ds' upbringings. I suggested to Jonathan that he take the 5th rather than answer some of the interrogation that would later come back to haunt him. We wisely followed his suegro's advice.
Earlier in the day Wifey and I spent time in a way that I know must have set her off. We visited her Mom -- now 97 and a few weeks ago moved to a nursing home from the ALF. The care is fine, and the place is well kept, but as we arrived, my suegra's roommate was having her diaper changed. She's an ancient Cubana -- totally out of it, like Rachel is.
We went to my mother in law's bed, and something happened to me, probably for the first time in my adult life. I nearly vomited from the stench of the roommates excrement. I am NOT a squeamish guy -- it's extremely rare that anything grosses me out. When I was pre med, I observed autopsies at the Dade County ME's office -- the young pathologist reveled in making his work as shocking and splattering as possible -- but I kept it together.
Yesterday the room's odor seemed a combination of rotting dead animal, fetid sewer, rotten eggs, and some other components of stink I never before smelled. Wifey's sense of smell is blunted, and so she was fine, but I felt myself literally gagging.
Thankfully, when the aid was finished, the smell returned to the level of a garage with maybe one dead rat hidden somewhere out of view. It was tolerable.
Meanwhile, my poor suegra had zero idea who Wifey or I was. This was a first -- she always recognized me. Wifey asked the nurse to put her dentures back in (she prefers them out) and Wifey fed her mother pieces of a protein cookie. She was otherwise non conversational.
Still -- she remains physically strong, and may go on in this limbo for months -- even years. I texted my friends that I plan to ask the Big Man for a different kind of exit from this mortal coil.
So maybe that's what set off Wifey's comical hyper activity last night. Either way -- it added to the charm of the evening -- and D1 returned home happy and safely.
Today, Wifey is headed to her friend Cara's condo on Venetian Island for a dinner and pajama party with another friend, Anna. It was supposed to be long time friend Linda, but Linda, poor thing, has shingles. She's anti vaxx, and so avoided Shingrix, the miracle shot that prevents the misery -- so what are ya gonna do? To each her own.
The millennials are off to a surprise party for a friends' engagement, and I plan to head down to the Redland and check out a newly renovated tropical fish farm. I rarely buy fish, but love to see what's newly swimming in that world.
At 6, Joelle and Kenny are coming by for a pregame, and then we have dinner at a new Peruvian steakhouse in Pinecrest. We brought in their food the other night, and it was delicious -- so tonight we'll go to the actual restaurant.
But last night's memory of the Ds together -- talking conspiratorially and laughing -- well that's been a sacred sight for me for the past three decades.
During Wifey's manic phase, she said to the Ds "I'm going to live to 97 like my mother so you'd better figure out what you're going to do with me." Somehow there was talk of a trip to Switzerland...where they have a terminal tourist attraction. I may well sign up for that, as opposed to a toxic smelling nursing home roommate, as well.
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