We’re upstairs the other day in the little room at the back of the house. Just me and her. We catch a show on the tube. I can’t remember what the hell it is. It doesn’t matter.
When it’s over she says she’s going downstairs to take care of some business and maybe we’ll catch another show in time. Fine, I figure as I follow her down. We’ll reassemble in a while.
I tell her I have a couple of things to do myself. I say I have a wash to do. I’m downstairs now saying this. The clothes hamper is in our bedroom. The bedroom is directly above where I am saying this. Upstairs.
She goes into the family room where I had left the vacuum cleaner a couple of hours earlier. The day before I figured I would vacuum downstairs on this day, so I’d gotten the thing out of the closet early in the morning.
Her desk is there, and she sits at it to do…whatever. I see the vacuum and remember what it is there for.
I turn around and leave, walk down the short hall to the stairs and begin to mount them.
Then I stop a few steps up. I just stop. And I think, or try to think, why am I climbing the stairs? Oh, I think finally, I’m going upstairs to vacuum. But then I think I can’t remember if the vacuum is upstairs, or still in the closet. No, I remember, it is in the family room where I put it only a little while ago.
And, I turn to go and get it.
As I reach the bottom of the stairs and begin to walk down the little hall to the family room to get the vacuum I remember the wash I said I wanted to do.
I stop, turn and return to the stairs, climb them to our bedroom, get the hamper, take it to the basement and start the clothes washing.
I spend a lot more time on the stairs than I used to.
The floors got vacuumed after the wash was done. We got together a bit later in the day and watched another show.