Last night, Wayne is completely freaking out because he can't find his bottle of magic prescription mouthwash anywhere. He's ranting about how it has vanished, simply vanished. I ask the usual helpful wifely questions, "Is it in your school bag? Did it fall out of your bag into the trunk of the car? Did you leave it at school?" He's checked everywhere, and it's nowhere to be found.
While he's getting ready for bed, I volunteer to do another search, because as Roseanne Barr used to say, "The uterus is a tracking device." I go downstairs and sitting in the middle of the table is a large orange bottle of liquid that matches the description of the vanished mouthwash, but I figure it couldn't possibly be the one he is missing because it's just out there in the open. Plainly visible.
It's after 11, and well past my bedtime, but I go out to the car. I check the trunk. I check the backseat. I don't see anything that might be what we're looking for, so I go inside again and conduct another hunt for the elusive mouthwash. I finally give up. I've decided it is probably still at school, but before going back up to bed, I grab the bottle from the table and take it up to him. His reaction is instantaneous, "You found it! Where was it??" I'm not even sure I should answer because I know he'll just beat himself up about it, which he does when I do tell him.
Is this related to the chemo? Or just because he's a man? Or maybe because he just turned 60? So hard to make the call.
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