Old, old post that I never finished. I’ve been sick (I just love being so sick that I end up throwing up in the bathtub because, well, never mind why) and sore (heel and knee which I get but why did I wake up today feeling like I had been camping (never again, unless there is a hotel involved) and slept on a bed of rocks) so I don’t have a lot of words. Hope you all had a good Easter. Keem made ham. I am looking forward to eating it for supper tonight. Anyway, this took place on March 20th but I had to change the date, of course. I promise I’ll have something new soon. Possibly new pictures of Eddy because, you know, he is my child. And Keem’s.

DM: Your cat is a dork. Eddy, tell your mom you’re a dork.
Keem: He’s not my cat. He’s your cat.
DM: Yes, but he has two moms.

Pause.

DM: I should probably never say that at work, huh? There are enough rumors.
Keem (laughing): Yeah, good idea.

So after my doctor’s appointment on Friday, Eric had to drop me off at his house because he had to go to work and pick up the van. In other words, he dumped me on Kari. I was starving so I wandered into the kitchen to see what there was to eat. My mother is sitting there, acting like I did as a teenager – “Good luck. There’s nothing to eat in this house.”

I open the refrigerator. Ooh! Cheese. I am quite fond of cheese.

DM: Can I have some cheese?
Kari: Yes.
DM: Can I have all of the cheese?
Mom: Why? Why do you want all of the cheese?
DM: Uh, because I like cheese?

Honestly. What does she think I’m going to say here? Because I want to rub it all over my body and sing a song of praise to the Cheese Gods?

I start slicing some cheese. I get to three pieces and am just about to put the rest of the cheese away.

Mom: That’s enough.
DM: Uh, yeah. I know.

She gives me the Mom look, the look that says “Dana, you are too fat and stop eating all of the cheese because that’s why but I love you and I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you unconditionally so I will try to guilt you into losing weight. It’s been 25 years since I started this. You’d think I’d realize this doesn’t work.”

DM: Back off, woman. I’ve got a knife.

I can hear Eric just rolling with laughter in the living room as I slap together a turkey, cheese and mustard sandwich on white bread. White bread. I do not understand my sister. Everyone knows that the best breads are full of fiber and nutty goodness (I am fond of Brownberry’s Health Nut. Mmm).

As I eat my sandwich, I let Mom and Kari know about the lovely trip to the doctor and how I am just a few steps away from Hoverounding my way through life (Yes, yes, I know it’s not that bad but I am quite fond of creative exaggeration). It is then time to see Josh’s new bunk beds and spend quality time with him. This involved playing that I am going to get him on the top bunk bed and then he will push me over to the bottom bunk bed and also lying on Mommy and Daddy’s bed while he bounces around me as though the bed is a trampoline. He’s quite good at it as well. We also pretended that he was Diego* and I was a wounded animal and he was going to help me feel better.

*Speaking of Diego, a few days before we went to the opera, I was speaking to my mother.

DM: So Kari told you were going to go to the show with us, right?
Mom: Why isn’t Kari going?
DM: Because she thought you would like it better.
Mom: Well, why doesn’t she go with us?
DM: Because we don’t have enough tickets. There’s only one ticket.
Mom: Well, that’s not what she told me.
DM: What did she tell you?
Mom: That Josh would enjoy it.
DM: Josh isn’t going. Why would we take Josh to the opera?*
Mom: I don’t know. That’s what Kari said.
DM: That doesn’t make any sense.
Mom: What’s it called.
DM: The Mikado.
Mom: What’s it about?
DM (not having a clue): Um, Japanese people?
Mom: I thought she was Hispanic.
DM: Who?
Mom: That girl.
DM: What girl?
Mom: On the books that I buy for Josh.

Clarity comes in one shining moment.

DM: Mom. Why would I go to an opera about Dora the Explorer?
Mom: I have no idea. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.
DM: I’m thinking you’re going to see that with Kari and Josh. This is with Beth, Keem and myself.
Mom: Okay.

*While my nephew is quite brilliant, I’m waiting until he’s six to start him on Shakespeare and opera. I think that’s an appropriate age, don’t you?

Advertisements