A Jacket

We got home late from work. It was dark. She was going to do some laundry. And cook some okra -- she was also going to cook some okra, too.

I was going to read and write. I was seated here doing just that (reading and writing) when she poked her head around the corner.

The dog needs to go for a ..., she said, silently mouthing w-a-l-k.

I looked at her. I looked at the screen. I looked back at her. I tried to say something.

I'm doing ..., she said, making some kind of l-a-u-n-d-r-y motion.

So I got up to do the least I could do while she did all those things that she does. And just before I made for the door, I asked her if I should wear a jacket. (Why she should know any better than I, I don't know.)

A jacket!? I think now in retrospect. I am astonished at myself. We've just finished with summer and the air is finally pleasant, and I'm asking if I should wear a jacket!? What is up with that?

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