Lois and I have been talking tonight. We’ve been doing that a lot this week, what with getting ready to move and reminiscing on our first home in Chicago – really, the only home Lois can remember. Because our conversations have been so touching and poignant, I thought I should share.
Stage: Me, sitting in bed, drinking wine. Lois laying on the floor, pointedly staring at my crotch area.
Lois: “You know, when we first moved here, you mostly ate Ramen and eggs when we were at home. I noticed because the only time I truly pay attention to you is when you’re eating.
Me: You’re a bitch, but you’re right. I didn’t have much money for a long time, although I had these fabulous friends who had me over for dinner here and there. I guess you missed that.
Lois: That makes you the bitch. Where were my leftovers? Anyway, those friends donated a lot of furniture, which I promptly chewed. I guess that’s justice and democracy in our modern world for you.
Me: Fair enough. Have you seen the stairs at the new place? You know, the ones that lead from the downstairs to our new bedroom, that are really steep and twisty?
Lois: Yes, and I have to say, I feel like it’s a plot to keep me out of the bedroom. I should also say that, in all honesty, I think Ulises put you up to this. I like that guy, but I hate how he keeps me from sleeping in the bed. You’ll probably despise me for this, but Christ, you’ve lost a lot of backbone with him. You know?
Me: Uh-huh. I could blame him, but you’re right. I acquiesce to his requests. Your dander makes him stuffy, and you can sleep on the floor. He can’t.
Lois: Debatable. There’s these things called Benedryl and Kleenex. Also, when you guys are having fun wrestling and jumping around and wiggling in bed, and I try to join in, and you seriously kick me away like I just peed on you? It’s extremely rude. And the floor is fine; you could at least talk to him about switching nights with me. Like joint custody, but more important.
Me: You can’t join us for coitus, Lois. No matter how much I love you.
Lois: *deep sigh* Aaaanyway…
Me: So. This is our last night here, you know. Just you and me.
Lois: Yeah. I think if I understood what was going on, I’d be feeling a little nostalgic. Instead, I’m just looking at all the stacked up boxes and feeling confused. Also, wondering if I could poop behind them and whether you’d notice.
Me: I’d find it eventually.
Lois: Yes, but you couldn’t punish me because by then I’d have no idea how it got there.
Me: Can we just focus on what’s going on right now? I’m really going to miss this place. I’m going to miss Rogers Park. I might cry.
Lois: Please do. I love to lick your salty tears.
Lois: What?! I’m going to miss it here too. I love running out into the lake, but not too deep, then into the tennis court, and the tracking all that shit into the house. But seriously, I love this neighborhood. I know I was born in Idaho and that we lived in Utah when I was but wee, but I can’t really remember that. I also can’t really remember yesterday, but that’s besides the point.
Me: You’re right. We sure have been through a lot together. You’ve really been there for me during some tough times, girlfriend.
Lois: Yup… … … Say, you haven’t got any food on you, have you?
Lois: Uh-huh. Okay. Well, I’ll tell you what. Take me with you to this new place. Feed me every night, and you might think about feeding me in the morning, but only if you want. Also, keep me around when you have kids. And sneak me scraps here and there. Even if I can get up those spiral stairs at first, pretty soon I’ll be too old and fat to get up there.
Me: Me too. My knees have really hurt a lot this week.
Lois: Here, let me stare at you to show you how sorry I am. Oh look, there blows a tumbleweed of my hair.
Me: The first chapter of our Chicago adventure is over, Lois. On to the new apartment. Oh – Did I tell you the new place has a washer and dryer? Also, a garbage disposal, a parking spot, and a dishwasher?
Lois: I’m going to sleep.
Me: I love you Lois. More than Chicago and dishwashers and parking spots. Basically as much as I love Ulises.
Lois: Food now, or it isn’t true. Can I just point out that he has yet to give you a foot massage, and yet I chew your feet through the blankets whenever you kick my face? Whenever you let me on the bed that is……. Where is that guy, anyway?
Me: Overseeing some structural changes at the new place.
Lois: Whatever. Goodnight…
… … … Can I get on the bed?
Me: Sure. Get on up here. Goodnight, Lois.