The early evening time slot often finds me running around getting dinner ready while simultaneously refereeing my children’s playing, timekeeping their turns on the computer, and repeatedly offering them healthy snacks. I hold out hope that one day they might actually reply to my pleading suggestion of ‘fruit kabob?’ with something other than disdain. On the odd evening when my husband is coming home for dinner this hour also finds me counting down the minutes until he walks through the door.
Obviously I want to see him at the end of the day – I want to hear how his day went and tell him about mine; I want to engage in meaningful dialogue about world affairs and philosophical ideas. And when I wake up to the reality where we barely get to say hello before he is swarmed by children, what I want most is an extra set of hands to help get everyone washed and seated for dinner while I wrap up the fruit kabobs and put them back in the fridge. (Hang in there, fruit kabobs - tomorrow could be your day!) (I have already run a stick through the poor fruit- giving it false hope is the least I can do.)
Last week, in the midst of this harried hour I noticed an email from my husband. In my haste to receive a morsel of communication from another mature person I accidentally marked the email as spam instead of opening it. At first I just let it be. The email was probably not important, and I could ask him about it over dinner.
But then I realized that his message might contain crucial information that would be helpful in getting me through the next 45 minutes. Perhaps it said ‘I’ll be home early because I desperately want to spend more time with you and the kids. That would be a good email to read right about now. Or even better, maybe it said ‘Just received a divine prophecy that the children will all willingly eat the same dinner. Thought you should know. This miraculous message would indeed change the course of my evening and should not be relegated to spam.
So I plunged ahead to a wild and random place where no woman should ever go unchaperoned - the spam folder. And let me share with you the (appropriate) things I learned:
- My hip implant may have been recalled.
- There are lots of great ways for me to meet other single South Asians.
- I can get $500 worth of free Starbucks, but only if I act fast (and give out my social security and credit card numbers).
- I shouldn’t be overweight because there are numerous ways to melt away 100% of my body fat in just 2 weeks. Some of those ways might not even kill me.
- My horoscope from yesterday was wrong. But that’s ok because tomorrow is my lucky day.
- With just 3 installments of $19.99 I can learn how Cindy Crawford’s skin stays so youthful and how Christie Brinkley defies her age! (Yet it seems I am destined never to know what happened to break up Christie and Billy Joel. She was his Uptown Girl! Where did it all go wrong??)
- There has never been a better time to buy gold.
- If I buy too much gold there are people who will help me sell my excess gold.
- I shouldn’t have to live with baldness.
- Should I choose to live with baldness there are ways for me to remove unwanted hair.
- I might have won something.
And in the midst of this madness I locate my husband’s email. Alas, there is no mention of early homecomings or divination. It reads ‘did you remember to deposit those checks? See you soon’
And in its own way this makes me happy. Because I did remember to deposit those checks – I am a hero. And because my foray into spamland put me 10 minutes closer to dinner. And because my husband is coming home soon despite my failure to adopt Cindy’s skin regimen. And because one of these days I am bound to win something – my horoscope said so!
There is so much to celebrate, fruit kabobs are on me.