Marie Kondo

‘Twas three weeks after Christmas and all through the condo, not a creature was stirring, not even Marie Kondo. Tidying Up was paused on the 35-inch plasma screen. Joe sat there in silence, eyes closed, notebook in hand, hopeful that the lady on the screen would teach him how to reorganize his l̶i̶f̶e̶ home.

Suddenly the phone rang, “interrupting” Joe’s attempt at meditation. Brutal. Instantly Joe’s palms were sweaty. His knees felt weak, though his arms seemed surprisingly light.

“You gonna get that Kev?” Joe asked. Kevin was silent. “What are you a mime? Grow up, Kevin.” Kevin, the snack, just smiled back. Joe grabbed the phone.

“Hello,” he whispered. “Ma, is it supper time?” Joe was born and raised in San Diego, but he’d just finished chapter three of Huckleberry Finn.

“Joe, it’s James. You have caller ID.” Oh boy. Desperately hoping to wiggle out of this, Joe coughed three times, each cough less believable than the one prior.

“So, James, you gonna offer me a cough drop?” Joe’s fingers instinctively typed ‘Ricola jingle’ into the YouTube search bar.

“Is that your last wish, Joe? Time’s running out, you know. You need to decide on your final wish real soon,” James said.

“Yeah yeah… I mean yes, I know. I’ve been thinking about it for years now, I just can’t decide what to do with the final wish,” Joe couldn't sit still.

“Well let’s look back on your first two wishes. Maybe that’ll help you decide,” James smiled. “Do you remember what you asked for 10 years ago?”

“Sure do!” Joe beamed. “My first basketball hoop. I loved that thing.”

“Great. And what about 5 years ago?” James asked.

“That’s when I asked you to come to my basketball game,” Joe remembered. “You were so into it! You yelled ‘YAS’ every time I touched the ball. That was really cool.” Joe always had trouble hearing, and with passing to his teammates.

“That’s right. Now where does that leave us?” James asked in anticipation.

“Ummmm, uhhhh… sorry James, I’m not ready yet. I’ll call you next week. Bye.” Joe scrambled for the red button.

Eight days later, Joe awoke in a panic. “That’s it.” Joe had his final wish. He reached for his phone and gave James a ring. No answer. He tried again, and again. Nothing. Who doesn’t pick up at 4:52 a.m.?

After three more tries, Joe finally left a voicemail. “James, I got it! My final wish, I finally know what to ask for. After thinking it through, I realized there’s nothing you could ever give me that would make this wish worthwhile. That’s why my final wish is for you to know that I don’t need a final wish. My final wish is for you to know that I love you, regardless of your ability to grant my every wish. Umm yea, that’s it. Call me back when you get this. Thanks.”

Joe made his way over to the couch, wondering if James would ever return his call. Oh well. He grabbed the remote and pressed play, taking notes as Marie Kondo worked her magic.