One night I was helping Ed, my Romanian life partner of 30 years, pay his bills. He’d been showing signs of dementia and always needed assistance with that task. Unfortunately, I put the stamp on an envelope a little askew. When Ed noticed, he lost it.
“Marie,” he hollered, putting his glass of vodka down forcefully and slamming his fist on the table. “Look what you did. It’s crooked. You r-r-ruined a perfectly good stamp!”