In the military, when you live away from your family for a significant amount of time, they call you a geo-bachelor (the geo is short for geographical…I think). Basically, you are a married man who is suddenly forced to play the bachelor game again except without the dating part (which is a huge relief to me). It’s basically like finding a wounded wolf in the wild, feeding it for 10 years, and taking care of it in every way possible before releasing it into the wild again with a really bewildered look and a craving for homemade lasagna. There’s somewhat of an adjustment period.
Fortunately, I was able to find 2 other guys in the same situation to share a place with so that we could split the rent and basically keep each other in line. Overall, we do ok. For 3 wolves that are used to being taken care of, we’re doing pretty well in the wild. This is not a story about one of those times.
To set the stage, I was the first one up in the morning on Saturday. I prepared my breakfast of Toaster Strudels and Corn Pops (don’t judge me). We didn’t have any spoons in the drawer, but it was fine since we did the dishes the night before. I grabbed one out of the dishwasher and enjoyed the complete breakfast of 12 year olds around the country.
One of my roommates came downstairs and the following conversation ensued.
Roommate: “Good morning”
Roommates goes into kitchen to get his breakfast.
Roommate: “Oh man, it looks like we forgot to run the dishwasher last night.”
Me: “Ummmm….we ran it, right?”
Roommate: “No, we really didn’t.”
Me: “Uh oh.”
Me: “I just ate my breakfast with a dirty spoon.”
Roommate: “I think I’ll go ahead and start the dishwasher.”
Me: “I think I’ll go ahead and throw up now.”
This was all further compounded by the fact that our other roommate has been pretty sick for the last week. I’m thinking about breaking my leg to see if the game warden will take me back in again.