As Lazy as Oscar

"Is it raining?" I grumbled under my breath as I looked at Oscar in the living room window seat. That's not going to help. It was a sleepy Saturday in late February and I was already tired. The rain made me wish I could just curl up next to him. But no. I have a deadline and I'm going to do this. But I kept drawing blanks. Everything I thought of just seemed like it had been done a thousand times before.

"Ken!" howled my wife Suzanne. "We need fresh mop water. Why can't these dogs go outside instead of under my dining room table?" Just one more interruption. I had begun to feel as if my life had sunk into a daily string of interruptions, one right after another. As I rinsed and reloaded the mop bucket for the next barrage of canine surprises, I caught sight of the mail carrier.

" Sorry neighbors," I thought as I made a quicksilver dash to the mailbox in black boxers, hoping they would pass for gym shorts at a distance. Emma, who lives across the street, can parade in public with leggings that fit like they are spray-painted on and no one blinks an eye anymore, but if my hairy legs venture out in boxers someone is going to call the cops. I grabbed the mail, hurryed inside, toss it on the kitchen bar, and rushed to see if I had made it back before the water had overflown the mop bucket.

"Well that was quick," Suzanne said with an "it's about time" tone in her voice.

"What?" my voice echoed off the canyon-like walls of bathroom tile as I finish refilling the bucket.

" It's our refund." Suzanne answers, "And they got it right, five thousand dollars!"

"Wow," I said. It came out as if I were almost singing. " Five thousand on top of the latest Covid stimulus check from the feds. That one was twenty-four hundred. All of which was on top of the check from Uncle Lynn's estate. Twelve thousand dollars was wonderful, but he was my favorite uncle and I was going to miss him.

" Did you add the bleach?" Asked Suzanne in that " you always forget to add the bleach" tone of voice. I say nothing because yes, I had forgotten to add the bleach. But that's not fair. I don't always forget. I hate that always and never crap that "always" pours out of her. But I'm getting sidetracked and I'm not getting into this with her again. I've got a deadline and I'm going to do this.

An inheritance is boring. And so is a lottery win. Maybe drug dealers toss a briefcase out of their car filled with unmarked twenty dollar bills as they're being chased by the cops. It lands on a guy's front lawn. He draws attention to himself when he starts a wild spending spree. The drug dealers and the cops both come after him. "Naw," I grimace. " That's probably been done already. Every third story submitted in this contest will be drug dealers and cops."

" Dad," calls Hannah. " I just know you want some tacos."

" Man!" I say to myself. " How do these women know what I'm thinking all the time." Ok, but this is it. I'm not getting sidetracked. I've got a deadline and I'm going to do this. Right after a trip to the Bell, but I'm going to do this. "Hey," I think to myself. "Maybe there is a crazy computer thing and a guy gets twenty thousand dollars refunded to his account from a taco stand? "Naw," I growl deep inside. " I don't know enough computer things, but If I did..."

"Ken," Now Suzanne's voice is sweet, almost sexy. " Get me one of those icy drinks, you know the one."

" Yes, I know," I answer. One of those brain freezers and some reruns of Blue Bloods will keep her busy. Just what I needed because I have a deadline and I'm going to do this.

Back from the "Bell". Two beef chalupas and an hour of Danny Reagan later and I still have nothing. I threw out a special gift from jolly old St. Nick, as well as the couple who suddenly discovers a stash of cash in between the two by fours as they tear out a wall in their kitchen during a remodel. "No, no, no." I think, "It's all been done."

"Ken," She calls. " Is she really done with Danny after only one episode?" I think to myself, hoping I didn't say that out loud.

" I forgot to tell you. While you and Hannah were gone the UPS man, who was a cutie, by the way, brought a letter I had to sign for. It was that check from your work for that stuff you do from home during the lockdown. Six hundred dollars. Is that right? You need to call them Monday morning. I think it should be more than six hundred dollars. Is that right"?

" Ok, ok, Monday morning, Yes," I said hoping to pacify her. " But wait! My work," I think to myself. " What about a guy who is let go at work but gets a severance of twenty thousand dollars?" " No," I think. " It will be too depressing. He'll blow through the cash and jump off a bridge." I add it to the list. It's starting to get pretty long now. As I considered different ideas of how someone could suddenly come into a big pile of cash I made note of them in my small black notebook. I guess I will never completely give everything over to my phone. There's something real and safe about actually writing things down with my own hand.

It's getting late now and my deadline is looming. " This is silly," I thought mockingly. " Twenty thousand dollars doesn't fall in your lap. It just doesn't happen! Surely to goodness, they could have come up with a better idea," I grumbled. Just then I remembered another looming deadline. I've got to pay the bills for February. I hope I have enough cash to cover everything. Let's see. There was that tax refund, the money Uncle Lynn left me, the stimulus check from the feds, and that check from work, and that all adds up to..... What?