About an hour into our trip, we are on the road again, Joe remembered that he'd forgotten to bring my weights for my daily exercise routine. Me, being me, thinks immediately, "Darn, that means I won't be able to do any exercises for the week." I couldn't find it in myself to be horribly disappointed. But during our four hour drive I began to think about what it would be like to have to get back into what I'd eagerly let myself out of - I'd figure out a way to still get the exercise in. I did have, after all some exercise YouTube videos that didn't involve weights, I could focus on those.
But then, when we went shopping for stuff for dinner. I had a thought. I told Joe that I was heading over to the detergent aisle. He nodded, thinking that I was picking up a small bottle so that we could do laundry in the small laundrettes that the hotel chain we stay in has in their hotels. But no! I found the aisle and looked at row upon row upon row of laundry stuff.
I set myself at the start of it and started lifting bottles. I wanted to find two bottles, of reasonable weight and of a shape that would work for lifting. Some of the bigger bottles were much lighter than some of the smaller bottles. I'm not a scientist and can barely do math, I have no explanation as to how that could be true. So, slowly, I made my way down the aisle picking up bottle after bottle, feeling it's weight, assessing its shape and then moving further down. I thought I'd try a bunch and then go back and pick the one that I felt had enough weight to be usable and had a good 'lift-ability' factor.
About three or four minutes into this, I notice a young man, maybe eighteen years old, with his mother. They were watching me with a kind of startled interest. They weren't staring at me, they were watching my behaviour. Of course, they assume, as many do, that people with disabilities either can't hear the spoken word or can't understand those words when clapboarded into a sentence. So I listen to them trying to diagnose my 'symptoms.' I find this profoundly funny. They talk about my obsession with the laundry soap. They talk about my needing to lift and touch the bottles. I heard the word 'sensory' spoken a couple of times. It's PHD television.
So, I've settled on the soap that feels right and is good with lift-ability. The last question will be answered when Joe arrives. Which he does just as I'm finished. I want to know if I've picked a brand we'd use, because after getting home, the soap can stop being weights and become soap again. Joe said that my first choice, which he'd leaned down to look at, was fine. I heard them talking, relieved that my staff was there. I whispered to Joe, "Kiss me." Joe looked startled, and I said it again, "Kiss me." He shrugged his shoulders but as he stood up again he planted one on me.
They were shocked, I rolled by them saying, "That's a sensory experience I like too!"
I'm still chuckling at the shocked look on their faces. Ain't never seen THAT on TV.