N.B.: For this post you have to know that I am trying to break E.S. of a tendency to take excessive care of me. I’m not quite awake enough to make the obvious joke, but perhaps you could do me the favor of considering it, like Nanki-Poo’s execution, already accomplished.
This weekend I had to go to Los Angeles for the funeral of an elderly cousin. The funeral was at noon on Friday; because I teach Thursday nights, this meant I had to wake up at an hour that shouldn’t even exist to take a very early flight. Rather than pack my bag the night before leaving, I waited, as is my wont, until the morning of my departure. Though there was no call for him to do so, E.S. woke up and kept me company while I packed.
I got back late last night. Earlier this evening, E.S. and I had the following conversation:
E.S.: Sweetheart, next time you have to take a trip early in the morning, I would really appreciate it if you packed the night before you leave.
FAUSTUS: Oh? Why?
E.S.: Because it makes me anxious.
FAUSTUS: About what?
E.S.: That you’ll miss your flight.
FAUSTUS: And how is it your problem if I miss my flight?
E.S.: Well, then I’m stuck with you.
FAUSTUS: Get away from me.