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Red Isn’t Always the Red I See (standard:humor, 911 words)
Author: GodspenmanAdded: Jan 03 2021Views/Reads: 123/68Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
What I have learned in my lifetime is that hearing and seeing are crucial elements in every relationship.
 



It is not that I am colorblind; I just am color indifferent. Red and
blue and yellow are all the same to me. 

This, on many occasions, has challenged the Gracious Mistress of the
Parsonage, who is very meticulous when it comes to describing anything 
or anyone. 

In remodeling my office at the parsonage my wife asked, “What color
would you like the walls to be painted?” 

That sounds like a good question to ask but it's not any question to ask
if you know me. 

"I don't care about the color. Whatever you think is best is okay with
me." 

Thinking I had solved the problem, I felt at ease, but her response
caused me to realize the problem had not been solved. 

"It's your office," she said, "what color would you like the walls to be
painted?" With that, she looked at me with a very gregarious smile, 
which is infectious to me. 

Knowing that she wouldn't stop until she got an answer from me I said,
“Paint the walls purple.” 

As far as I was concerned, it didn't matter what color the walls were. I
wasn't going to be studying the walls when I was in my study. 

Looking at me for a moment, she finally said, "Okay, I'll paint it
white." 

I'm beginning to learn how to solve problems in our house. 

Color doesn't mean very much to me. When I get dressed Sunday morning,
my wife is very concerned that my tie matches my suit, and my suit 
matches my shoes as far as the color aspect is concerned. 

To me, the only thing that counts is, does it fit? 

It finally came down on me the other day. We were doing our final
shopping for Christmas, and I still had a couple of gifts to purchase, 
and she had a shopping cart full of gifts to buy. 

We were just about done when I remembered a present I wanted to get, and
I had completely forgotten about it. So I asked my wife, who was the 
chauffeur at the time, if she could stop at a store so that I could go 
in and get my final Christmas gift. I was almost exhausted, but this 
was the end. 

She parked in the parking lot, and as I got out, I said, "I won't be
long." 

I did not pay attention to the parking lot as I left the car and went
into the store. I have no reason to check it out and evaluate every 
vehicle on that parking lot. The only thing on my mind was to go in, 
purchase my gift, get out, back into the car and go home. 

I do know the car my wife has is red. That's about as far as I can go
with that. So, when I left the shopping store, I was looking for a red 
car. 

It seemed like an effortless thing to do, but as I looked up and down
the parking lot, there must've been thousands of red cars. Not quite, 
but it seemed that way. From my perspective, they all looked alike. I 
could not remember what kind of car my wife had, only that it was red. 
The fact that I remembered it was red was something. 

I went to the first red car, there was nobody there and the doors were
locked, so I went to several others. I could not find the Gracious 
Mistress of the Parsonage. I was almost tempted to phone in a missing 
person's alert; perhaps the police could find her better than me. 

I did have my cell phone with me, and I thought about calling her to
find out where she was. But if I did, I would have to live with that 


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