From the last time that I left Ron on his own, I was fully prepared for him to revert to his bachelor days and all the repercussions of that. So during my time away in Ohio and Maryland this January, I did receive a few phone calls from a befuddled Ron who had not found my hiding place for the paper towels or the lightbulbs (I “hid” them in the same spot they’ve been in since we moved in… six months ago). He also told me during one of our calls that something was wrong with our freezer. He couldn’t figure out why there was “snow” in it. When I started to suggest some remedies, like make sure the door is shut, he quickly said, “When you come home you can put the house back in order.” Lovely. I wonder if I’ll need a jackhammer or industrial waste bins?

The night before Mom and I arrived in Cairo, Ron was on his own. Our friend Haitham had just left the previous day, so Ron told me he had a big “man feast” prepared for his night of singledom. He was going to feast (i.e., reduce his lifespan) on a big platter of steak, chicken and roasted potatoes and top it off with that world-renowned, indisputable-man-flick, “Finding Nemo.” When I pointed out that he might want to throw in “Die Hard” or “Terminator,” he said, “But I haven’t seen ‘Finding Nemo’.” Can't argue with that.

So the damage upon returning home wasn’t too bad. But Ron did admit to having our housekeeper come the day before we arrived to “touch up” things. I did find evidence of his shopping sprees, however, which resulted in a Costco-sized bushel of papertowels (because he couldn’t “find” the ones we already had), a vat of turmeric (which is destined to become part of our wills as I doubt there are enough lifetimes to use it all – though I’m hoping my up-coming release, “10,001 Ways To Use Up Turmeric,” will be a best-seller), bits of broken chocolate bars strewn throughout the fridge, in the door, vegetable bins, etc., seven half-empty bags of bread in the fridge, more alcohol than most frat houses have, “folded” towels in the linen cupboard (“folded” to Ron means “wadded and wedged” to me), liquor glasses in with the coffee cups, cat bowls in with the people cereal bowls, and obviously because I had “hidden” them, burned out lightbulbs in the lamps. Compared to the mummified onion (or "mumion") we found when Ron moved out of his Baltimore apartment, I thought this wasn't too bad.

As I shared (i.e., vented) my findings with him, he was quick to show me the monthly stipend I'd get from the Social Security Administration should he get hit by a bus. Yeah, he's a catch. And he's all mine.