Is there such a thing as too much time on your hands?
Yes, I believe so.
And there is also a thing about balancing how you spend your precious time.
Larry and I have been spending just about every waking hour together, and I’m discovering things about this man that I never knew, and believe me when I say you can’t unknow what you’ve come to know.
For example, I discovered Larry has a morbid fear of dishwashers (he can get a dish to the sink but no further), he’s taken to wearing a headband out to dinner (and people compliment him?), and oddly enough he can not resist a worthy challenge.
I found this old photo of Larry and me, I believe it was premarriage, but you can’t be sure. Clearly, we were in our early twenties, obviously tired of backgammon, and forced to discover new forms of entertainment.
The impetus for getting ourselves in such a pose had not been fully established but what I do know is Larry is looking down my shirt!
We were staying with his parents at their Kono Tayee estate, I assume one of them snapped this photo, and it’s been sitting in a basket up at the lake ever since. I glance at it ever now and then, shake my head, and return it to the basket.
Recently I decided to make a copy of the image, thinking I’d frame it, and hang it up at our lake house. You know, for posterity and all, a reminder that we were young once, and remarkably agile.
I don’t know why, but the image always makes me smile, and sort of sigh as if nostalgic for the good old days.
So we’re sitting around the house, thumbing through the plethora of programs now available on Netflix, and I said something banal like, “I wonder if we could pull that off at our age?”
What was I thinking?
Larry says, “I’m certainly strong enough”
“Really honey? Are you insinuating there has been a shift in my anatomy? And besides, we don’t have a beanbag!” Not to mention I’m a total fail at balancing and have a minor fear of heights?
“You know when you recreate an old image by wearing the same clothes, getting in the same position, with a similar background, except you’re decades older? It’s a thing.”
“Never heard of it.”
“I’m shocked, hey, do you still have that shirt?”
“That shirt – No”
“I definitely don’t have my shirt, which you are looking down by the way.”
“I’m focusing on keeping you airborne.”
He looks me up and down, “I think I could hold you?”
“Yeah, I could do it.”
“Well, I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
It’s the “will we” that got me into trouble. Before I know what’s happening he’s on the floor balancing a pillow with his feet.
“If you always put limit on everything you do, physical or anything else. It will spread into your work and into your life. There are no limits. There are only plateaus, and you must not stay there, you must go beyond them.”
He says, “nothing to it.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him I weigh slightly more than a pillow, as he kicks the fluffy square into the air, narrowly missing my plant!
I muddled something under my breath about the status of our health insurance but Looney ignores me.
“Come on we have nothing to lose.”
“Only my dignity, and my ability to walk, and breath, other than that, we’re all good.”
“Can I just advise, if you feel like you’re falling, lean to the left.”
Famous last words…
Previously Published on cheryloreglia.com