Connie in the Cupboard

This is a true story:

Cast of Characters:
Connie: Her real name isn’t Connie.
Bob:  Married to Connie.  And his real name isn’t Bob.
Marsha: Connie’s childhood best friend. And her real name isn’t Marsha.

My friend … umm … Marsha … and I have known each other for probably over 20 years.  Marsha and I have been known to get into … umm … situations. Like, this one time at a bar I said, “Eww! Creepy guy seriously needs to stop staring at me.” Marsha turned around and then looked back at me and said, “That’s my cousin. Hahaha” We were in Florida at the time, where know one should have known us.  And I won’t mention Marsha getting phone calls from White Sox players that were in Florida for spring training at the time. I swear swear swear … I probably might have kind of had something to do with it. I can’t remember.

Then, while in Indianapolis, where again no one should have known us, we run into someone Marsha knew. Marsha Marsha Marsha I swear that chicks gets around.  Every where we go and I don’t care what state we’ve been in, we see someone Marsha knows.

On another adventure while in Chicago, and I’m sure we saw someone she knew, we ended up having to change a tail light at 1:00 a.m. in our decked out ’90’s club wear. Two Indiana chicks in heels changing a tail light.  Hahaha You know it! Okay, so I just read the instructions while Marsha played mechanic. I would never touch hot car wires. That stuff is dangerous.

I have many more stories but they are not appropriate for the internet.

So anyway, Marsha and I have been known to get into situations. And this story could probably top them all …

Connie in the Cupboard

Marsha had a childhood best friend named … umm … Connie. Sadly, Connie passed away a few years ago. So one night Marsha and I were out for dinner and drinks …

Me: Have you talked to Bob? How is he?
Marsha: He’s alright.
Me: Where does he have Connie’s ashes?
Marsha: In the cupboard.
Me: In the cupboard? WHAT?
Me: Like, next to the cereal in the cupboard?

I know what it means to lose a childhood best friend and how I feel when visiting Sue’s grave – It’s heartbreaking yet peaceful. So I feel bad that Marsha isn’t able to visit Connie. Well, unless she heads to Bob’s house for cereal.




I’m sorry.

Anyway, I know people grieve in their own way. And guys are sometimes a little different. And maybe this is how Bob is handling his grieving.  BUT … if my husband EVER stuck me in the cupboard next to the Snap, Crackle and Pop I’d haunt that man for the rest of his life and my girlfriends better come and get me!!!

So after several sippy sip cocktails … (blame it on the cocktails)

Me: That just breaks my heart about Connie.
Me: We need to go kidnap her.
Me: Let me think. Give me a half a second here.
Me: Okay I’ll bring some vacuum ashes and replace those with Connie. I saw that once on a Desperate Housewives episode.

And Bob will never know.

He’ll wake each morning going about his morning routine, open the cupboard for his morning cereal and probably say, “Good morning, Connie.” And close the cupboard.

And Connie will be … umm … we haven’t discussed the undisclosed location yet. I haven’t thought that far ahead. My crazy little head has only imagined plan A …

Sneaking to the Connie in the cupboard house at dark. Running off in our black sweat outfits carrying Connie. (My running training at Wicker Park will come in handy)

And pray that we don’t trip and fall.

So, I haven’t thought past plan A. Whenever Marsha and I are together, we’ve only discussed up to the part of running off. I can’t get past the thought of one of us tripping and falling. (Maybe my Wicker Park training should include running with a bowl. Like having a book on your head to walk proper.)

I think I need a pill.

So anyway, a couple of weeks ago I was at Marsha’s daugher’s graduation party. And …

Well well well … look who it is …


Connie’s husband.

Marsha:  Jody, look who’s here.
Me: Bob is here
Me: And not at home
Me: Guarding the cupboard

Have a wonderful day all … And soon.  Very soon …

I will probably be on the front page of the local Times.

And please note:  I knew Connie.  And believe me when I say, she would be the instigator of operation Connie in the Cupboard.

3 thoughts on “Connie in the Cupboard”

    I still feel guilty because my sister wouldn’t let me put my mother in the compost pile.. and I didn’t spring her ahes to do it.. what’s the law say about digging up urns? is that technically grave robbing? Maybe I could dig her up and transfer her to the compost pile… OMG SEE WHAT YOU STARTED!

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