A few nights ago, I wrote about driving with Beth to karaoke and shouting My Cousin Vinny quotes into the night. I had said “It is moments like this that make me believe I have one of the best lives ever. Because if there is anything better than driving down the highway with one of your best friends, listening to No Doubt and shouting My Cousin Vinny quotes into the night as you are on your way to karaoke, I don’t know what it is.”

Friday night, I agreed to come over and make sure that Beth weathered the after affects of having her wisdom tooth removed.

I’m not sure exactly what I would be able to do if anything serious happened since I do not drive and I certainly am not very good at driving a stick shift. But I can dial 911 like nobody’s business.

Fortunately, other than A LOT of pain, weird dizzy spells and some occasional nausea, she has not freaked me out by passing out and requiring either a trip to the emergency room or my frantically trying to figure out where I put my cell phone. She has, however, amused me greatly when her pain medication kicks in. Beth is goofy and a lot of fun most of the time but the pain medication seems to take away that logical side she has in full force and she has been having more red moments than I’ve ever seen her have. She is doing what Keem refers to as channeling Dana. Or getting in touch with her inner DM, if you will.

Well, sort of. She has not yet taken a bunch of birthday hats and put them on her head and face. She has not yet been leaving a message for someone and suddenly yell “Squirrel!” and then go back to what she was talking about. She has not yet held a stress relief ball to her nose and yelled “Look! I’m a clown!” She has not yet cried at such tear jerkers as “Troy” and “Finding Nemo.”

You know, actually now that I think about it, she’s really not acting like me at all. She did, however, decide to read a book to me last night. A book called The Boxcar Children. This is a book about four orphaned children, ranging in ages 5-14, who find themselves living in a boxcar because they are afraid that their grandfather will find them. It’s actually very interesting, if you ignore the fact that it is written for children between the ages of 9-12. Not adults that are 26 and 37. There are some gaping holes in the story which I will now detail for you.

  1. The author never bothers to tell you how the parents died. At all.
  2. The kindly doctor, who the oldest boy works for, is aware that the children are living in a boxcar. And yet he does nothing about it. Until the younger sister gets deathly ill.
  3. When the children do meet their grandfather, he is a nice man. Okay. That’s fine. But we have no idea why they were afraid to live with him except for the fact that he apparently didn’t like their mother. We have no idea why. I suppose we’re not supposed to question this that much.
  4. The book was originally copyrighted (as far as we can tell) in 1942. So it is not surprising that Henry, the oldest, goes off to find work, leaving his sisters behind to make a home out of the boxcar. But it did grate a little to read about how Jessie was “the home maker.” Just a little.
  5. The younger children (since Henry is being manly and off working) go on an exploring walk and find a dump in the woods. They are very excited about it. And dump, in this case, is what we would now call a junk yard. Oh, what exciting treasures they find!

But anyway, it was a cute book and Beth and I had a lot of fun sharing in the story. Because she is on massive painkillers and I am easily amused. This led to a talk about favorite books when we were children, such as The Phantom Tollbooth and the Trixie Belden books. And the fact that Beth can name every single member of the Babysitter Club (which I never read because it didn’t come out until I was in college). Which sent Beth on a search for The Phantom Tollbooth and resulted in her finding the copies she had of the Trixie Belden books. I am now about halfway through the first book*.

This afternoon I said to Beth the following:

“You know, I thought the whole My Cousin Vinny thing was great. And it was. But now I am sitting here with a good friend, listening to awesome music and reading Trixie Belden: The Secret of the Mansion. I have the best life ever.”

Hey. I did say I was easily amused. Last Sunday, I sat in Beth’s car and told her that I thought watching the ice melt on her windshield was much more exciting than watching paint dry. Because when ice melts, you can pretend that you are the Ice Queen and the little chunks of ice are villagers who would not worship you. Boy, are they sorry now. You can’t do that with paint.
It was about that time that Beth thought it was a good idea to go scrape the car off. I can’t imagine why.

*Since I first wrote this post, I have actually finished 3 of the books and am working on the fourth. Except she doesn’t have the whole series so I’m missing out on vital tales from my childhood. Oh, the horror.

Previous Comments:

At 6:31 PM, brooksba said…
DM,Oh, this was a fun night (and weekend). Even if I am doped up on pain killers. Which it may be time for more. I need to see about this. Let me check. Yes, it does hurt like a SOB. Yep, time for more pain killers. I wish I could find the Phantom Tollbooth. I bet it’s at my dad’s. I’ll have to check next time I go over there. Maybe tomorrow.I can name the 7 members of the BSC still. I don’t know if they added more after I grew out of the series. The original four were: Kristie, Mary Anne, Claudia, and Stacy. Then Dawn moved from California and her mom married Mary Anne’s dad. Then Mallory and Jessie joined the club. Mallory had 7 brothers and sisters. Three of her brothers were triplets. Don’t get me started on the Sweet Valley High/Kids/College/and whatever they called the middle school days series. I know, I know, it’s sick. Aren’t you glad I went from that to Stephen King? Alright, I need to take pain medication. Love you!Beth
At 10:22 AM, Matt said…
You are way too funny and so damn cute DM. I love you as well. I am glad that you had a good weekend, I am currently working in a cloud of sickness and medication, but I am at work. Why do you ask? Because of the dumb shits that I work with, apparently the freakin’ clinic would fall apart without me here, so I get to come to work feeling like I am going to pass out and try to remain smiley and happy whenever people show up in my office. Oh Joy of all Joys!Hope you have a good day, if I can post later why they are dumb shits I will, but I am not holding my breath that it will happen today.Later,Matt
At 8:38 AM, The Lioness said…
Hullo my Queen, today I feel like commenting so let’s seize (almost wrote cease, if you’ll believe it) the op. I have missed you as well – and loved, LOVED your message, so so cute! I was only able to hear it here, B’s comp was unwilling, but adored it. Looking forward to April! Kisses galore.

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