Let me preface the following musings by assuring you I am the very last person on Earth who would make fun of anyone with a disability. But then again, gentle reader, I do have my darling Sir, and so the odd titter, guffaw or plain uncontrollable laughter has to be excused. I therefore beg your indulgence on this one.

Sir is a self-confessed – and I’m sure at his age, self-diagnosed – “sufferer” of ADD, attention deficit disorder. I placed “sufferer” in quotation marks, because I firmly believe he actually quite enjoys it and it gives him a right royal excuse to get away with what we lesser mortals might refer to as “laziness.”

It is not uncommon for me to look up from whatever I’m doing when he utters an opening gambit at a sentence, there I patiently wait for a suitable length of time – in my case, three nanoseconds – before I utter “and???” Sir comes out of his reverie and will either “never mind” me or proceed to launch into the openings of several thoughts that will naturally give me the perfect opening to remark “honey, complete one sentence at a time, there’s a good chap” – or words to that effect.

I can often follow his meandering brain in my own mind when I see the glass of water he moved from his night stand – presumably to be taken to the kitchen – ended up on my sink in the bathroom. The cheese grater, fresh from the dishwasher, sits on the counter directly under the cupboard that it has called home for the past 20 years.

He will organize his work papers into orderly piles, and will then proceed to pick one up – ding, ding, ding, another thought incoming – and will place it very tidily a foot away from its original spot while he attends to his new thought. He can do this several times while I sigh and look on with condescending indulgence at my little fella.

Thankfully this doesn’t happen very often, and it was with great amusement I listened to his ADD tale-of-the-day this morning.

Bending over to tie his shoelace, he saw out of the corner of his eye the nail clippers sitting on the edge of the bath. Of course, he then proceeded to clip his fingernails after which he went to put the clippers away. On his way to achieving this monumental effort, he spotted the mouthwash was getting a bit low and then of course had to check if we had a spare in the cupboard.

The cupboard naturally opened up a cornucopia of things with which to be distracted. A pill bottle was nearly empty; he was running out of razor blades; oh look I found a dime and a quarter on the shelf, and gee I love fishing.

His ADD was now in full blossom. His little episode came to a triumphant end when he sat on the bed having achieved well-groomed nails, a semi-start to a shopping list – which will naturally be forgotten as that would involve going to the store – and looked down, to see his shoelace was untied.

All very Harry Belafonte “there’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,” isn’t it?

Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at anniedearkc@hotmail.com.