I think I've always thought that I had written this down, but I can't find it. So, I will take this opportunity. It's a cute little short story and it's on me. That makes it okay to tell.
One afternoon after Ron and I came to Georgia Jill and the kids had come for a visit. The kids were off somewhere playing, Jill was in the kitchen and Ron was at the kitchen table. It was a very quiet time in the house, but for some reason my morning wasn't going as smoothly as it should have been.
Just around the corner from the kitchen I had been doing laundry. Anything can go wrong with such a chore, and something had evidently set me off.
With my head stuck in the clothes dryer I suddenly mumbled to myself, "I think I forgot to take my Zoloft."
The two in the kitchen had heard me, simultaneously looked at one another chagrined and said, "Oh-oh."
