April's Real Blog

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Dad, Romance, Ew.

It's not that I don't think Mom an' Dad shd "romance" ea other, I just don't esp. wanna know abt it. So of course, Dad had 2 call me (I'm talking 2 'em more while I'm away @ the farm in Winni than I was @ home, seemz like.) He sed, "April! I love your mother!" I was like, "Really? I thot U loved trainz, an' toler8ed Mom. He laffed and sed, "U teenagerz w/yr sarcasm! NEway, I was in the kitchen drying dishes, looking across the room @ yr mother, who was standing @ the kitchen table scrapbooking. And I felt this swell of love. In fact a shiny, 3-D heart popped up in my thought bubble! I sidled up to her holding 2 mugs of tea in one hand, and I'm not even sure how I managed 2 do so, but I was holding them both by the handle, and I didn't even spill!" I'm all, "Get out!" And he's, like, "No, it's true!" I was hoping he'd go off on a tangent abt carrying hot drinx in mugs an' not spilling them, but he went rite back 2 his topic. "So, I sed, 'Xxcuse me, miss. I was staring @ U from over there... And was wondering if U'd join me 4 a drink.' And yr mother sed, 'Well... I guess so.'" I tried that old trick of pretending U have a bad connection by making fake static soundz, but Dad didn't notice an' he continued, "So, we were sitting having our tea, and I sed, 'I'd like 2 get 2 know U better. If U're not busy 2nite, cd I invite U out 2 dinner?' And yr mother sed, 'That wd B nice. I accept.' And I asked, slyly, 'And after dinner cd I take U home?'" I interrupted, all, "Dad, U're talking 2 yr daughter! MayB U shdn't tell me more!" Dad was all, "Pishposh! U're mature enuf 2 know. So yr mother answered, 'Hmmm.... That mite B a distinct possibility.' And she was looking @ me with that fetching looking-upwards hopeful xxpression I find so endearing. As we walked off, arm in arm, I thought, 'Who sez "speed d8ing" isn't romantic!"

I was all, "Dad, U've been married 2 Mom since B4 the stone age, if U an' Mom make sum quick dinner planz, I don't think that counts as 'speed d8ing' even if U make yr planz v. v. quickly." And Dad was, like, "Spoil sport!" And he hung up. And then the friggin' phone rang again and it was Mike! "April, in case U have the dreaded writer's block again, yr talented, award-winner brother has just the thing 2 rescue U!" I was, like, "Mike! I'm gonna write abt this creepy convo I just had w/Dad!" Mike was all, "Resorting 2 writing abt creepy convos--nice alliteration by the way--a sure sign of writer's block!" And B4 I cd argue more, he was like telling me abt sumthing that happed when I was like 2 months old. He sed he was looking thru his old journalz 4 inspiration 2 apply 2 his "Sheilagh" manuscript, and he found an entry abt when he was 15 and had 2 babysit me. He was sitting on the couch holding me and thinking, "Yeah. Right. Everybody take off and leave Michael here 2 look after the drool queen." Then he sed out loud, "It wdn't B so bad if this kid cd DO sumthing! --Right, Ape?" And just then, I sed, "Glkkthh..." and smiled. He got all happy and sed, "She SMILED @ me!!" Awwwww. Apparently, I was cute back then, cute as a friggin' button. Didn't have "fugly" dayz like I seem 2 have like every other week. ::sigh::

NEway, that's all 4 now. I've gotta milk Bossie the cow.

Apes

21 Comments:

  • At 10:49 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Boozhoo (Hello).

    I read your writings about your noos (father) speaking about zaagi`iwe (love) with your ngashi (mother). My noos (father) often does the same thing to my ngashi (mother). He usually sings Irish loves songs to her, which she likes pretty well until he gets to the part where the Irish lover talks about how is going to take his halberd and kill himself for his love. When my sweet girl came up to visit last weekend and my noos (father) sang a little to my ngashi (mother), she asked me what he was doing. I said to your sister he was trying to get her in the mood for zaagi`iwe (love). She said, “I hope your noos (father) does not do this too often. My noos (father) is usually only romantic when all the children are out of the house.” I said, “What about when he takes vacations alone with your ngashi (mother)?” My sweet girl said, “That is his time for leering at other women.” I said, “My lovely Elizabeth. When we are finally together, I will give you zaagi`iwe (love) on our vacations and even when we have children in the house.” My family overheard me say this. They smiled and said, “Ahhh!” However, my sweet girl did not like the “Ahhh!” She preferred a different vowel sound. She said, “Ew! Paul! On vacations? At the same time when there are children in the house? Ew!” My family overheard her say this. They said, “It sounds like you are going to have to send your children to spend the night with their gikaawin (grandparents) if you are going to have more than one child.” My sweet girl said, “I don’t think my ngashi (mother) keeps her noozhishenh (grandchildren) overnight, except for special occasions.” My ngashi said, “I mean they could stay with us.” Your sister said, “But you live too far away.” My family sighed deep sighs then. I was a little discouraged, but your story about your (father) speaking about zaagi`iwe (love) with your ngashi (mother) made me feel a lot better.

    Last night I took Susan Dokis (whom I call Chipper) to The Grizzly (a bar at Spruce Narrows), because she needed a ride. We got there, and I found that Chipper had already made many friends in Spruce Narrows. They were having a good time talking, and I was a little left out. A lot of Ojibway towns look at members of the Ontario Provincial Police suspiciously. It was not a problem when I took my sweet girl to The Grizzly months ago, because not too many people talked to her and my sweet girl got drunk very quickly, so I had to take her homes shortly after we got to The Grizzly. Chipper saw I was standing over to the side and she said, “Excuse me, Officer. I was staring at you from over there with my new friends in the Narrows…and was wondering if you’d join us for a drink.” I said, “Well…I guess so.” Chipper said, “I think they’d like to get to know you better. If you’re not busy tonight, could I invite you out to dance with me and my friends?” I said, “That would be nice. I accept.” Chipper said, “And, after we dance, would you take me home?” I said, “I wasn’t going to leave you here.” Chipper said, “Suds (her nickname for me)! Say something like, ‘Hmmm…that might be a distinct possibility. You don’t think your noos (father) would mind?’” I said, “Hmmm…that might be a distinct possibility. You don’t think your noos (father) would mind?” Chipper said, “I don’t think my noos (father) would mind having a handsome, strong police officer escort his nidaanis (daughter) home. There’s nothing safer than a police officer.” I said, “There would be no danger of being caught speeding.” Chipper said, “I think a little speeding might be romantic.”

    I got to meet Chipper’s friends. They were mainly her fellow school teachers, who live in Spruce Narrows. I mentioned my sweet girl to them and they said they remembered her, when she came to The Grizzly. But I don’t think they really did. One teacher said, “I never saw a girl drink so much.” And another teacher said, “It was strange how all the men in The Grizzly were drooling over her. I couldn’t figure out what they were seeing. Almost every woman here was prettier and better dressed and friendlier.” Another teacher said, “Even married men and gay men. It was eerie. I was so glad she moved.” Obviously they were thinking of someone else. It didn’t sound anything like my sweet girl at all.

    You also wrote in your writings how when you were younger, you were cute and now you consider yourself to be “fugly” every other week. I know teenage girls do not think they are pretty. However, when I visited Milborough, I saw a beautiful younger sister, who will someday grow up to be just as beautiful as her older sister is. I remember when Chipper was little, she look like many of the Ojibway women I had grown up with. But now when I see her, she looks like an Ojibway fashion model. If Chipper can change that much and look as beautiful as she does, think of how beautiful you are going to be.

    Gi'-ga-wa-ba-min' na-gutch! (See you later!)
    Constable Paul Wright

     
  • At 11:08 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Little sis. I’m glad Dad and I stepped in to help you with your Blog today. If the only story you had is about milking a cow, then you obviously needed material. I decided that since Dad was so successful with mom using his lines, I would try the same with my lovely Deanna. I made 2 cups of hot steaming tea and balanced them in one hand, just like dad did. Then I said, “Excuse me, Miss. I was staring at you from over there…and was wondering if you’d join me for a drink.” My lovely Deanna said, “Mike!! If you spill that tea, you will burn our son! Put it back on the table, until I am finished changing his diaper.” I put the tea down and said, “I’d like to get to know you better. If you’re not busy tonight, could I invite you out to dinner?” My lovely Deanna said, “You got a sitter? If you got a sitter for us to go out, instead of making me do it, it would be a miracle.” I said, “And, after dinner, could I take you home?” Deanna said, “If you got a sitter, we are not going to come home until way after dinner. Maybe dancing on Yonge street. Maybe we could see a movie. Oh, Mike!” I said, “What about a little loving in the bedroom?” Deanna said, “You didn’t get a sitter did you? You can’t do anything without a woman to help you. You can’t even write your novel without your mother writing the outline of the story for you. Here is your son with a dirty diaper, and you don’t have the first idea how to change it. Michael Patterson, first you call a sitter. After you do that, we’ll talk.” After that conversation, I think I know the answer to dad’s question, “Who says, ‘speed dating’ isn’t romantic?”

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 11:12 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    april, oh ick. oh ick. oh ick. i met eva @horny tim’s & sed the xxact same thingz ur dad sed 2 ur mom, xxcept i sed them 2 eva & i sed “tim bits & café mocha” nstead of “drink.” ‘course aftah i sed them 2 eva, we kinda kissed a lot, which i like. but now it’s all ruined n my head, cuz i sed the same thingz as ur dad. now i hafta bleach my brain.

     
  • At 11:14 AM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    paul, u r so nice 2 say that abt my loox, but i saw this pic sum1 snapped fr. when u were @ our house 4 dinner, an' i think i look really fugly in it! @ least 1 don't look like that all the time. of course, there r times i look even worse. i wish i cd look nice every day!

    apes

     
  • At 11:20 AM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    jeremy, sorry abt that. mike, shut up abt me needing material. writing abt the cow wasn't the only other thing i cda written abt, but now u'll never know what else i wda had 2 say, will u? ha!

    apes

     
  • At 11:27 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Boozhoo (Hello).

    I read your writings and saw your picture. You see fugly. I see a happy, smiling, friendly girl, who was the one person who asked me questions about my future with Elizabeth, when I visited. It is plain to me you are going to be even better looking when you get older. Look at your sister. Look at your mother. As they would say in Ojibway “Giin onaakonan ayaa Gwanaajiwin” (Your future is beauty.)

    Gi'-ga-wa-ba-min' na-gutch! (See you later!)
    Constable Paul Wright

     
  • At 11:38 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Little sis. The first stage of writer’s block is Denial, which you are clearly in, although I get a sense from what you have written back to me, you could also be in the second stage of Anger. You have been in Winnipeg a week and the only thing you have written is that you milked a cow and had some oatmeal with our extremely attractive cousin Laura. All you have to do is compare what you wrote in your Blog at this time last year, when you were also in Winnipeg, and you can tell the difference. I will wait for you to go through the final 3 stages of Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Write me back when you get to the Acceptance stage, and I will see what I, your award-winning writer brother, can suggest to help you out. You are obviously not ready to accept any of my gold-plated sterling suggestions in your current stage of Denial.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 11:39 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    I know how just how Jeremy feels. My parents told my brother Blair to take me out to see the movie Zoom, which I thought would be about cars, but it was about Tim Allen instead. I wasn't feeling very good. I think I ate too much popcorn and my stomach does not digest popcorn very well. Blair was supposed to take me to get ice cream after the movie, but he had to take me home instead.

    When we got home, I saw something that really made me sick. Dad was chasing mom around the living room and they were both naked. Then mom grabbed a blanket off of the chesterfield and threw it over my head and said, "Blair, get your sister out of here." I got sick in the blanket. I don't know if it was because I had popcorn, or because the blanket didn't smell very good, or because the blanket was cutting off my breathing, or because I kept remember what my parents were doing.

    If your parents are running around your house naked, you should be glad to be in Winnipeg, milking cows. I wish I was there with you.

    Love,
    Shannon Lake

     
  • At 11:58 AM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    I’m glad to hear that your mother is actually using all those scrapbooking supplies she bought with her employee discount from Moira Kinney at Lilliput’s. She seems like the kind of person to do a proper scrapbook with the double-sided, hinged, scrapbooking tape and the little decorations around the pictures that enhance the picture’s presentation. When I see people using regular tape and just slapping the pictures on pages, it makes my heart ache for all those memories that are going to be lost from the bad adhesive and from the poor memories of the person who didn’t take the time to write out what was happening in the pictures on the page and can no longer remember what the picture was about, or the names of all the people in the picture. I have made a lovely scrapbook of Becky’s music tour. It is quite attractive, if I do say so myself. Fortunately, I got my materials before your mother’s little scrapbooking shopping spree cleaned Moira Kinney out.

    I went out to lunch with Becky today, and I can tell you right now that being the fiancé of a teen pop star is not the easiest thing to bear. All during lunch, men were coming over to our table and saying, “Excuse me, Miss. I was staring at you from over there…and was wondering if you’d join me for a drink.” I would say, “Hello! Fiancé sitting right here! She has my ring on! We’re eating!” But the men would just keep on going and say, “I’d like to get to know you better. If you’re not busy tonight, could I invite you out to dinner?” Then Becky would say, “Where are you going to take me?” Then they would tell Becky and she would say, “Sorry. My dining standards for my boyfriends are higher than that.” And she would giggle. But then the men would say, “Well, is your large, nicely-dressed, companion interested?” Becky would then say, “My companion is a guy. Couldn’t you tell by his voice?” Then the men would say, “Well, nobody’s perfect.” Then Becky would say, “Take your speedy moves someplace else. It isn’t romantic.” Then I would say, “I’m feeling very Jack Lemmon right now. Are you feeling Marilyn Monroe?” Becky said, “What?” I said, “Some Like it Hot” Becky said, “What? No. It’s too hot outside. It’s better to eat in.” Like I said, it’s tough being the fiancé of a teen pop star.

    Howard K.

     
  • At 12:40 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    mike, u r confusing writer's block w/grief, u goofball!

    btw, last yr @ this time, i was writing abt what liz what going thru w/howard an' the "going after". sorry 2 bring that up again, liz an' howard. blame mike.

    apes

     
  • At 8:05 PM, Blogger howard said…

    Mike,

    Thanks a lot.

    Howard K.

     
  • At 8:39 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Little sis. Going through writer's block is like going through grief. You've lost your ability to write, which is like losing a loved one. I know you are trying to avoid dredging up old issues with Liz and her "going after-er", but the simple fact of the matter is that it was an interesting story. You had a hero with Anthony. You had a villain with Howard. And you had a hapless young maiden who needed to be protected with Lizardbreath. It was a classic story that only would have been better if Howard had tied Liz to a train track and asked her to pay the rent,only to be rescued by Mountie Anthony in the nick of time. That was an exciting story. "I milked the cow" is not so exciting. Now if the cow could kick over a lantern and set Chicago on fire, then it would be much better.

    Sheilagh Shaughnessy suggested I try a love story in my novel, where her Bodner Saskatchewan farmer / former wounded Canadian soldier husband attempts to win her over with a cup of tea and some sassy conversation. But after reading the story about mom and dad this morning, Sheilagh Shaughnessy said I should go for an action adventure where she single-handedly defeats a tribe of marauding natives using nothing but a scrapbook and a roll of tape. Thanks to Sheilagh Shaughnessy for having such an exciting life. My novel is going to be a best-seller in no time at all. Perhaps you could try listening to Sheilagh Shaughnessy and it would help you with your writer's block.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 8:50 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    mike, i think u 4get not everybody has sheilagh in their headz. i know i don't have her in mine!

    apes

     
  • At 9:31 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Little sis. I am sorry to hear that. It wasn't until Sheilagh Shaughnessy inhabited my thoughts, did I know what it's like to be a writer. Maybe Bossie the Cow can be to you, what Sheilagh Shaughnessy is to me.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 9:34 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    april, if u bleach ur brain, iz ur hair suppozed 2b white?

     
  • At 9:44 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    jeremy, u didn't actually use bleach did u? the whole bleaching yr brain thing? that's just an xxpression!

    mike, erm, yeah.

    apes

     
  • At 9:47 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    april, just an xxpression!? just an xxpression!? i think i am gonna stay n my bedroom 4 awhile. mebbe undah the bed. i look old enuff w/o havin' white hair 2.

     
  • At 12:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    april, i cudn’t hide undah the bed. my mom came n & sed, “eva called & wunts 2 know y u r not there @her house 2 take her dancin’.” i called eva & sed sorry & wud b rite ovah. i got 2 eva’z & she sed, “finally. jeremy jones. i thot u were gonna stand me up & i wuz gonna hafta punch u out.” i apologized again. then eva sed, “y do u have a ski cap on?” i sed, “2 cover my head.” eva sed, “i know ur hair iz short cuz of wut happed on that musick tour. take it off. u look like a cowboy whose fallen off hiz horse 1 tyme 2 often.” i sed, “i’d rather keep it on.” then eva yanked the cap off my head. her mom sed, “oh my.” her dad sed, “iz that real?” eva sed, “u look just like me.” i sed, “sorry. aftah i red april’z story 2day ‘bout her mom & dad gettin’ it on i thot i needed 2 bleach my brain, but i didn’t know it wuz just an xxpression. i know it looks bad.” eva sed, “bad? bad? i luv it. we’ll b twinz. no1 will b able 2 tell us apart. & i think it makes u look v.v. sexy. practically irresistible.” & then this strange thing happed & eva got a rilly scary look n her eye. then next thing i know, she’z on toppa me tearin’ away my clothez. her mom & her dad r sayin’, “eva. stop that. leave that boy alone. u put hiz pants back on rite now. eva abuya, if u put ur handz undah his underwear 1 more tyme ur gonna be grounded.” it wuz rite ‘round this tyme, az eva’s mouth wuz attached 2 my mouth, this thot came 2 my head, “need air. need air. get air or u will die.” ‘course there wuz this othah thot that came 2 my head which wuz, “wut a way 2 go. better than dying wen ur old & can’t feed urself or u hafta beg 2 get a freakin’ cookie.” 4tun8ly 4 me, eva’z dad pulled her offa me & i cud breathe again. he sed, “eva abuya. ur grounded. do u unnerstand me?” eva sed, “yes, dad.” then he put her down & the next thing u know she’z back on toppa me again. well, her dad pulled her off again & her mom gave me back my ski cap. her dad sed, “jeremy jones. do not come back 2 this house till ur hair iz a diffrent colour.” so i left.

    i am thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ my hair dyed 2 my natural colour. but there’s part of me thass thinkin’ mebbe borrow 1 of howeird’s wigz 4 wen eva & i r around her ‘rents & keep the bleached hair 4 wen we r alone. wutya think?

     
  • At 12:03 AM, Blogger Anne said…

    Look on the brite side, Jeremy! If u bleach yr hair, u can dye it n any colour u want & it'll take. That's how I was able to get my hair brite red b4 I went back 2 my natural colour 4 Apes's b-day partee. Gordie still thot my hair looked red, but that's prolly bcause he had those stoopid shades on, even @ night.

    Vicks

     
  • At 12:08 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Hey Vicki babe, why'd u call my sunglasses stoopid? Gerald sed they made me look like John Lenin--is that his name?--and that singer from the Black Crowes. He wuz laffing when he told me that, but i think that's becauze Apes just told him sumthing funny....

     
  • At 1:35 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    gordie, dude. ru finally outa hospital? eva & i were talkin' 'bout doin' sum dubble-d8in' & we wondered if u were out yet. we can't dubble w/april & gerald, cuz april iz outa town & i dunno if gerald iz out hospital yet. we can't dubble w/rebeccah & whomevah she iz w/theze dayz or w/duncan & zandra cuz there r issuez w/old relationships there. so, we were thinkin' 'bout u & vicki. ru innerested, dude?

    vicki, thanx 4 the advice 'bout the hair dyeing. i'll ask eva wut colour she thinks i shud have.

     

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