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Tuesday, 04 September 2012

The Associate's Rebuttal

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This story references another, Movin' In, you may want to read to know what Ralph is rebutting.]

By Ralph Lymburner

In making arrangements for our wedding on her l00th birthday, my partner has referred to me as associate. This term does not show any equality in a relationship. Think of business signs; Jones, Smith and Associates, or assigning tasks to a JUNIOR associate.

The plans for the date of the wedding in 2033 may be a bit early but I believe I can have all of my tasks completed by then. Both my partner and I are closing in on our 80th year so I am already working on arrangements to meet with counselors from Planned Parenthood.

I must be diligent in my affairs as promises have already been broken. Before selling my house, my partner and I reviewed living arrangements when I moved into her home. I was shown an area in the master bedroom closet which would become mine.

What more could a guy ask for? Being allowed to have access to the master closet was promised. But alas, shortly after closing on the sale of my home, I was told the master closet was no longer available.

I was pleased with the assigned bathroom with a nice shower and wide vanity area. However, one day after coming home from a hard day at the bridge table, I noticed my favorite pink and purple towels were not draped over the shower where I left them. In their place were prison cell brown and beige towels correctly folded over the towel bars with hand towel and wash cloth artfully placed on top.

The vanity now contained art objects from Africa and a silver sign saying, “Laugh.” My toothbrush, paste, razor and purple hand washing liquid were stuffed into a basket in the linen closet.

“Just decorating it a bit for you honey,” she said, with a smile. It’s the smile that gets men every time. “We might get unexpected guests wanting to use the bathroom.” Not at all functional.

I don’t suppose that any of you babes who are volunteering to participate in the wedding have been given all of the details, either. For example, I discovered you were not told that photos in bathing suit attire were to be sent to me for approval. I will reciprocate upon request.

Recently, I was informed that I had been promoted but not to partner. I am the senior associate and supervisor of the apprentices, our four cats.

Such is the life for the downtrodden.

I will simply survive on our love for each other and the true respect we have for each other’s wants and needs. I can now buy large curd cottage cheese for myself and not have to eat her small curd.

That is true partnership.

[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


Ralph - you and your partner are definitely my kind of people. May you continue to enjoy each other and the love that flows through your union for a very, very, very long time to come.

Wonderful! I love your resignation in the name of love, peace and harmony. You never know when company may come and bathroom accessories are sooooooo important!

The real problem is that there's no really good term for a domestic partner for people over 50 or 60. I read yesterday that there are more of us unmarried older couples living together than ever. But we still don't know what to call ourselves or one another.

I've finally decided to refer to my partner as The Engineer because he really is such an engineer. He agrees.

Congratulation on your merger!

I hope one of you will take him up on the bathing suit photo. I will see to it that he complies, in fact I will take it.

Laughed and laughed at this. I love the part about the decorating. My hubby thinks littering chores lists on the walls for the kids is appropriate. I never invite people over just because of his idea of "decorating." How the years have gone by without a murder in this house is beyond me! LOL
Enjoy your relationship, you two, and don't worry so much about what youc all each other, as long as it isn't late for dinner.

Your sense of humor will save you.

Thanks for the hearty laugh on a rainy, gray day!

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