Friends and Family
Nice try, Mike, pretending that when I sed that no1 forces me 2 visit Gramps, U cd deduce that I am forced 2 visit Iris. I think U were just trying 2 cover cuz U were all pre-occupied w/yrself as usual. Just admit it! And B4 Gramps an' Iris got 2gether, we didn't even know her, Y wd I B visiting w/random odefoax I don't know? So, 4 the record, I visit Gramps AND Iris cuz I want 2.
NEway, next bit. @ the end of Gramps's recent physio session, Gramps was like, "B...bucket ...yes?" Whatev that means. And the physio-therapy chick (l8r revealed 2 B named Judith) was all, "I know. U did a gr8 job 2day, Jim! --We'll C U next wk, OK?" Then she pted a finger @ him and sed, "And, keep up the exercises I gave U 2 do @ home." Gramps: "Yes?" Judith: Yes. Every day. Then Iris sed, "Thanks, Judith. He really enjoys his physio days." Judith was all, "We have our own little family of friends in here, don't we!" And Iris sed, "We sure do!" She sez that as she wheeled Gramps off, she was thinking, "Thank God 4 family and friends!" When she told me this part of the story, I felt kinda bad, cuz it soundz like they get more support from their "family of friends" than from their family of family, U know? Well, @ least on the "Gramps" side--I think Iris's kids been a big help.
Apes
NEway, next bit. @ the end of Gramps's recent physio session, Gramps was like, "B...bucket ...yes?" Whatev that means. And the physio-therapy chick (l8r revealed 2 B named Judith) was all, "I know. U did a gr8 job 2day, Jim! --We'll C U next wk, OK?" Then she pted a finger @ him and sed, "And, keep up the exercises I gave U 2 do @ home." Gramps: "Yes?" Judith: Yes. Every day. Then Iris sed, "Thanks, Judith. He really enjoys his physio days." Judith was all, "We have our own little family of friends in here, don't we!" And Iris sed, "We sure do!" She sez that as she wheeled Gramps off, she was thinking, "Thank God 4 family and friends!" When she told me this part of the story, I felt kinda bad, cuz it soundz like they get more support from their "family of friends" than from their family of family, U know? Well, @ least on the "Gramps" side--I think Iris's kids been a big help.
Apes
posted by April Patterson @ 6:52 AM
9 Comments:
At 10:07 AM,
howard said…
April,
I did have an encounter with Judith the physiotherapist which reminded me a lot of this story you told about Iris and your grandpa Jim. As you may recollect, Judith forbade me to take your grandpa to his physiotherapist appointment because my perfume violated her anti-scent requirements. I recently tried going to Clinique Happy for women, which is a lot lighter and a lot less expensive than my old Baccarat's Les Larmes Sacrées de Thebes. I went to the physiotherapist’s office to see if my new scent was within her standards of unscentedness.
I sat in a chair waiting for Judith to see me. It was taking a long time, so I took out a little snack with brie I had stored in my purse for such occasions. Just as I got the snack in my mouth, out pops Judith and she gets in my face, and touches my shoulder, and points her finger at me and says, “And what is your problem, Mr. Bunt?” I started to say, “Well, I’m here to see if my new scent is acceptable” but I only got to “Well” when Judith said, “I understand you may be nervous seeing a new physiotherapist, but let me assure you that you are in good hands with me.”
I got ready to say, “No, I am not a patient, I just want you to confirm my scent is acceptable”, but all it got in was “No”, and Judith said, “No pain no gain is exactly right, Mr. Bunt. You’re going to find that physiotherapy is the hardest thing you have done, even moreso than carrying a gun and running around with a gunny sack. I just love that allusion.”
I tried to say, “I think you don’t understand what gunny sacks are for.” But all I got in was, “I” and Judith said, “No, Mr. Bunt. I know I am attractive, but I make it a strict policy not to have romantic relations with patients, even tall, clown-haired, muscular ones like you.”
I tried to say, “But I’m already engaged to a nice girl named Becky”, but all I got in was, “But” and Judith said, “Well, Mr. Bunt. I know I have a nice butt and I never get tired of hearing it. Some of the other physiotherapists think I have a man’s butt, however, it’s you patients whose opinion I trust.”
I started to say, “Fragrance. I’m only here to talk about my new fragrance.” But all I got in was, “Fragrance” and Judith said, “Well, Mr. Butt. You do know the way to a girl’s heart. It’s not many men who would compliment a woman’s natural aroma as if it were a fine perfume. So many women wear those awful perfumes without realizing how many people are allergic. I can tell you are a man of a different breed. Come with me to my special examining room.” Then she pulled me up out of the waiting room chair and dragged me back. Physiotherapists must be pretty strong to do the exercises they do every day.
I started to say, “Stop. I’m not a patient. I just want to get your opinion on my perfume.” But I got in was, “Stop” and Judith said, “Mr. Bunt don’t worry. I am trained physiotherapist and I know exactly when to stop, but with a beefy guy like you, I think it’s not going to be very soon.” It was at this moment I regretted not having worn a dress.
I wanted to say, “I’m just here to get my fragrance checked.” But all I got out was, “I’m” and Judith said, “I know you’re in love with me, Mr. Bunt. Most patients fall in love with their physiotherapists, because of our kindness and ability to understand even the most aphasic patients like you. Now watch how swiftly I can remove your shirt. When I take off Jim Richards shirt (he’s one of my elderly patients), he is so impressed it gets him excited, if you know what I mean.” Then she had my shirt off in less than a second. And it was quite impressive, although it did not get me excited in the way she wanted.
I started to say, “Let me out of here!!” But all I got out was, “Let” and Judith said, “Most patients want me to let them take off their own clothing, but it is really best if the physiotherapist does it, until you regain your ability of course.” And the next thing you know she had my pants off. She said, “Mr. Bunt. You have very pretty underwear and quite impressive equipment. I think you are going to be one of my favourite patients.”
Just then another lady stuck her head in the patient area and said, “Judith!! Mr. Bunt is only here for you to check and see if his new fragrance is acceptable, so he can drop off patient James Richards for his physiotherapy sessions.” Judith said, “New fragrance acceptable?!! Mr. Bunt, you have been leading me on. No!! That fragrance is not acceptable. We have a family of friends here, Mr. Bunt, and they do not treat the feelings of their physiotherapists so casually. You are in my family of enemies. Out! Out! And don’t come back with your seductive language, muscular body, and enticing clown-hair.”
So I left having failed again. I guess it’s just up to Iris to take Jim to his physiotherapy sessions.
Howard Bunt
At 10:13 AM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. I know as the new head of the Patterson household, once we buy the house from mom and dad, it will be my responsibility to control family situations. You mentioned Iris thought “Thank God for family and friends.” This is clearly a cry out to be included in the religious activities of the Patterson family. Normally I wouldn’t think of such a thing, with Grandpa Jim yelling out curse words. However, as the new head of the house when we buy the Sharon Park Drive house from mom and dad, I have decided to be magnanimous. Iris can go with us to church on our annual Easter visit, and so can Grandpa Jim, provided that he agrees to keep his mouth shut or wear one of those muzzles for the elderly mom keeps saying I should get for my mother-in-law. I think that is an acceptable offer considering the risk to our family’s reputation we are taking bringing them along with us.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 2:07 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Dearest future sister. In case my brother did not inform you, this evening he and Mr. Caine are being forced to attend a support group at the Milborough chapter of the Johnston Institute for Better Living, for "Learning to Cope When the Inevitable Is Delayed: Frustrated Childhood Sweethearts of Patterson Women." I have agreed to baby-sit for Mr. Caine while he is at the support group, and if I can get my Jeremy flower away from his work at the Shakespeareworks’ Theatre to help me baby-sit, then I might be able to get an evening with Jeremy where I don’t have to worry about Gerald interrupting, since he will be stuck there with Mr. Caine, his new best friend.
My Jeremy flower is so sweet. After my home economics class today, I found him outside the classroom door waiting for me, so we could have lunch together. He was arguing with a short girl with long beautiful hair. It was so unlike Jeremy to get into an argument with anyone, I was quite surprised.
I went up to my Jeremy flower like nothing was going on, and gave him a big kiss, and said, “Who’s your friend?”, hoping for a proper introduction. The girl spoke very slowly, as if someone inserted giant ellipses between everything she said. I won’t duplicate it here, because it would be too tedious, but what she finally said was essentially, “Jeremy is no friend of mine. He’s just here at the home economics classroom to call my family of friends retarded.” My Jeremy flower patiently said, “No, Shannon. I am here waiting for Honoria, who is taking home economics, so we can have lunch together.” Then Shannon took a look at me and said something to the effect of “Jeremy, you’re a loser if you’re dating one of the grade 8 girls who takes this class.” As the true gentleman he is, Jeremy did not respond to the girl’s insult. I said to the girl, “Jeremy always tries to tell the truth. I am Honoria Delaney-Forsythe. I take the home economics class. Jeremy was here for me and not to insult anyone. I think perhaps you are thinking of the old Jeremy Jones, before he got his Corbeil Certificate of Goodness.” Shannon said she didn’t believe Jeremy had really changed.
Then the other students taking the home economics course filed out and my cooking partner, a very nice special needs girl named Margaret who, despite her unfortunate hairstyle, eyeglasses choice and body odor, is an excellent cook and is helping me tremendously in the class; stepped out and said, “See you tomorrow, Honoria” and gave me one of those little waves she likes to do. I waved back. Then all the special needs kids in the class saw Shannon and they waved at her, and Shannon waved back. I said to Shannon, “You certainly are popular. I haven’t seen such enthusiastic waving since my Pater’s stroke-recovery psychosexual needs group therapy session. Your friends wave almost as generously as stroke recovery patients.” Shannon said, “Yes. My family of friends loves me, and they hate Jeremy; but Margaret seems to like you, so you must be alright.”
I said, “Who are you? My Jeremy flower is a gentleman, but he has obviously forgotten how to do proper introductions.” Both Jeremy and Shannon introduced her as Shannon Lake, however Jeremy finished quite a bit sooner than Shannon did, since he spoke ellipse-free. I said, “Shannon Lake. My brother Gerald has spoken about you. He says you are a re…” Then my Jeremy flower, in a moment of extreme ungentlemanliness put his hand over my mouth and said, “You probably don’t want to repeat that to Shannon.” I said, “Gracious me, Jeremy Jones. I don’t know what you thought I was going to say, but it is certainly not deserving of that kind of behaviour. I was merely going to tell Shannon how much my brother admired her hair. I am not so fond of the unadorned look, but there are so many natural colours and highlights in Shannon’s hair, it is quite beautiful, wouldn’t you say?” Naturally Jeremy agreed.
Shannon seemed quite pleased and she asked why my brother Gerald would say such a thing. I responded, “Well, Gerald’s girlfriend (that’s you) changed her hairstyle recently and he does not like it. Her hair is much more attractive when it is down like yours is.” Shannon seemed to be confused and said, “But April Patterson is the nicest girl in Milborough.” I responded, “Nice personality and nice hair are not the same thing.” Shannon was not so sure about this.
The discussion about you and your new hairstyle seemed to upset Shannon, so I said to Jeremy, “Let’s have lunch, the 3 of us, and you tell me what the trouble is.” Shannon seemed to be startled by the invitation, but she agreed with very little coaxing. It took a long time to get the story out of her, with her halting speech, but the net effect of it is that when my brother began maligning your good name 5 weeks ago, Shannon expected you to seek her out for comfort and advice as you had done many times before. Instead, she discovered you had sought the advice of your sister instead and it hurt her feelings. Considering your sister’s advice was to break up with my brother, I sympathized.
Then we got into a discussion which was more to the heart of the matter. Dearest future sister, you’ve waiting so long to confront my brother (it has been 5 weeks now); I fear that you will never regain your reputation. It makes my heart sad to hear people say you are “hands on” or “a gig” or you’re “roadside” or “been there”. It makes Shannon sad too. To cheer her up, I gave Shannon one of my brownies I had made in home economics. It is a no fat, no carb, no salt, no sugar, no calorie brownie I think even my mother might eat. I gave one to my Jeremy flower too.
Shannon smiled briefly as she ate it, but then she said, “B…bucket…yes?” My Jeremy flower raced off to get one. He is such a gentleman, although he told us he needed one too, just so Shannon wouldn’t feel bad.
Love,
Honoria Delaney-Forsythe
At 5:30 PM,
Anonymous said…
Dearest April flower,
I just finished my first support group session at the Johnston Institute. I expected it to be quite scary, but it was actually fairly pleasant. Anthony Caine picked me up after school in his minivan and drove me over to the Institute. On the way, Anthony asked me what I was planning to do after I graduated from high school. I told him I didn't know. Anthony suggested that I could get a job at Mayes Midtown Motors and Munchie Mart. I told him I didn't think I was interested in being a used car salesman, but Anthony corrected me and said that I would be perfect as a salesman in their new Music Mini-Mall, where they will sell everything from musical instruments to stereos to MP3 players, etc. Of course, the plans for the Music Mini-Mall are only tentative at this point, but I think it sounds like a promising career.
Once we got to the Institute, the therapy group was led by a woman called Sylvia. Anthony said she was Liz's trauma counselor during the t-shirt pulling trial, but now Liz is "totally healthy," so she doesn't need Sylvia's services anymore. I started to tell Sylvia about Liz's N.E.R.V.O.U.S.B.R.E.A.K.D.O.W.N., but Sylvia clapped her hands and said it was time to start group.
First we had to introduce ourselves to the group. I went first. Sylvia told us to share even the most shameful details of our personal history as a childhood sweetheart of a Patterson. I said, "Hi. My name is Gerald Millicent Delaney-Forsythe, but I sometimes go by Ger, Gisli, or G-Dog. I'm 16 years old. I have taken antipsychotic medications and also steroids, and I was once hospitalized for an eating disorder. I like Roman history, and Viking culture. I sometimes go drinking with an older man called Thorvald, who I think might be gay. We hang out with his biker friends sometimes, but the way they look at me makes me feel dirty. Anyway, if April would just agree to marry me, we could live in that house Pater bought for us on Giltlawn Terrace, with my wise Aunt Lavinia, who some people think I'm having an incestuous relationship with, but that was just a misunderstanding because my parents tried making me date other girls. But April keeps turning me down for marriage, engagement, pre-engagement, pre-pre-engagement, free trial offer pre-engagement, and pseudo-practice quasi-crypto pre-pre-pre-engagement. I'm not even sure we're going steady anymore. We've been a couple since January 2003. Or we were. I don't know. I'm confused. And I have blue balls the size of cantaloupes."
I sat down, and then Anthony got up and introduced himself. "I'm Anthony Caine," he said. "I don't even remember how long I've been in love with Liz. Fifteen years, maybe? I dunno. I lost track. Anyway, from the time I met her, Liz was the girl for me. But Liz didn't think I was The One. Or something like that. I dunno. She dumped me when she went off to college, and she moved in with that Adonis, Eric. I didn't know what to do with myself. I went into a tailspin. I got so depressed, I didn't eat or talk or anything. I was catatonic. After a few rounds of electroshock, I started to sort of function again. My dad fixed me up with this French girl, Therese. I waited for a sign from Liz, to see if she still thought of me. But she never called. Or visited. So I got engaged. I was starting to age rapidly, and my mom said in Milborough, a rapidly aging man needs to lock in a wife while he can. Then Liz came back to Milborough, and she was unattached, but she didn't say or do anything, so I didn't say or do anything. Next thing I knew, I was married. The thing about French women, though, is they are not like nice Milborough women. They do not want a house where they can stay home and have babies. They don't want babies at all. Which is odd, because they are nymphomaniacs. I wish I had looked up "French girls" in my Milborough Complete Encyclopedia before I got married. It would have saved me a lot of humiliation at the hands of my insatiable whore of a wife. I tried to show her the right way. I told her, married people have sex once a week, and married people have babies. She seemed confused, but tried to learn. We had a baby. Unfortunately, she is half-French, but she seems fairly normal-ish. Anyway, after the baby came, Therese went back to her whoring French ways. When I wouldn't let her do those nasty things to me, she looked for a man who would participate in her prurient, lecherous activities. Now I am here. Alone. In Milborough. With a baby. And no Liz. Still no Liz. So I asked this girl in accounting to be my date to the wedding. I knew she would be too afraid of being fired to say 'no.' But fool I am, I didn't know this would be the time my Liz would finally come for me! Good god, what will I do? I have no hooooooooooome!" Then Anthony broke down sobbing.
Sylvia said, "Great! What you boys have got to learn are ways to cope with the never-ending waiting for your Patterson true love...with the heart-wrenching, deus ex machina obstacles on your path to wedded bliss...with the totally nonsensical plot twists and turns in your fairy tale love story."
I said, "Great! What do we do?"
Sylvia said, "First, I think we should try some pet therapy. Do either of you have pets at home?"
I said, "No, Mater is afraid they will soil her white Aubusson rug." And Anthony said, "No. Unless you count a toddler as a pet." Sylvia did not.
Sylvia said, "Holding and stroking a pet can be very soothing. I have some animals here today who have been volunteered for use in pet therapy." Sylvia pulled out a butterscotch-colored bunny and handed it to me. "Pet therapy animals come from homes where their owners cannot or do not give them the attention and love they deserve. Therefore, pet therapy animals are being helped as much as they are giving help." Then Sylvia handed a white cat to Anthony.
"Pet the animals," Sylvia said. "Stroke them." I stroked the bunny, and he chomped my finger. "Talk to them," Sylvia encouraged us. Anthony said, "Nice kitty," and the white cat began to shred the crotch of his pants. Pet therapy had to stop for a couple of minutes while Sylvia got Anthony to stop screaming, and applied bandages.
"Maybe we should move on to another coping mechanism--one you will be more comfortable with," Sylvia said. "Arts and crafts can be very soothing hobbies. Do either of you have an arts or crafts hobby?"
Anthony raised his hand and said, "I'm into woodworking!" Sylvia said, "That's great! Don't feel bad, Gerald. Anthony has been through some private counseling with me in the past. Do you have a current woodworking project, Anthony?" Anthony glumly admitted that he did not. Sylvia said, "Perhaps you could build yourself a cattery, in case a certain someone marries you and brings her cat along?" Anthony thought about it for a second and said, "I don't think I have that much barbed wire left over from the play house."
Then Sylvia told me, "You know what would be very soothing for you, Gerald?" And then she gave me a large ball of yellow yarn and two large pointy sticks. "Knitting is a very relaxing hobby." I expressed my concerns about how this will look to the other guys from my sports teams. Sylvia said not to worry about it. I was skeptical, but I agreed to try knitting three hours a day for one week.
Anthony had to go back to work right after therapy broke up, so I went out and sat down on the bench at the bus stop and started to knit. Just then, I saw your brother Michael coming down the street, walking along with his hands in his pockets, whistling a merry tune. When I said hi, Michael said, "Gerald Forsythe. Felicitous salutations! My, what unhappy task is this? Has my truculent, tempermental, teenaged terror of a sister set you on some sissified assignment?"
I asked, "Did you just call me a sissy?"
And Michael said, "Aye, I see your command of the English language is as dire as my dear dotty sister Lizardbreath has declared!"
Of course, I couldn't stand for him smearing my reputation, so I stabbed him in the buttock with one of my knitting needles. He ran off down the street screaming.
I think maybe I need to knit some more. I'm feeling all riled up.
Devotedly, Gerald
At 7:29 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. My buttocks are sore, and not in the good way they can be sore after I have been visiting my good friend Josef Weeder and well…sitting in one of his uncomfortable chairs for awhile. I had been expressing to my dear wife Deanna how we would be willing to allow Grandpa Jim and Iris to accompany us to church next Easter, because I am soon to be the head of the Patterson household, once we complete our home purchasing. My Deanna said to me, “Michael, where did you get such a ridiculous idea? You are a kept man. You’re not going to be the head of the Patterson household anymore than your dad is now.” I replied with a ribald, “Am too” and it was then I was reminded why I shouldn’t antagonize Deanna when she is knitting. She made a quick, stabby, stabby motion and my buttock was wrenched in agony. Then she said, “I can’t stand your crying. Go take a walk, kept man.” She won’t be so smart with me when my book is declared the Great Canadian novel.
Well, I was walking about and I spotted your boyfriend, and my future brother-in-law Gerald Delaney-Forsythe and he was also knitting. I made a simple inquiry as to the nature of his masculinity, due to his feminine knitting habit, and he too stabbed me with a knitting needle in the buttocks. That was two times in one day, and I feared where the next knitting needle I encountered would end up since I do not have a third buttock, contrary to what you tell my children.
Needless to say, I walked home cautiously; paying careful attention to whomever was approaching, particularly old ladies who may seem inclined to knit, or any people who were wearing suspiciously long coats, which could be used to hide knitting needles. Finally I decided to travel back home via the ravine which leads to near the back of our house. My feet got quite wet, but there was not one knitter there.
Formerly little sis, when Deanna and I have officially adopted you as our daughter, I have a feeling your boyfriend is not going to be allowed to take you out on a date, until he has taken a knitting needle to the buttocks in compensation for my humiliation and pain I suffered today at his hands.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 8:00 PM,
April Patterson said…
like a lot of u, i've had kind of a weird day. my english teacher decided we needed sum kinda touchy-feely group therapy. she brot sum friend of hers named hilda glücklichefreude. we hadta join hands while ms. glücklichefreude had us repeat, "we r a family of friends. a family of friends." this was so silly that a bunch of us cdn't help giggling. after a while our teacher was all, "bucket! this is doing no good."
after school, i stopped by the place where gramps has his physio therapy, cuz he'd left a book there, i was in the war! a memoir. i saw his therapist judith, and she recognized me cuz gramps had shown her sum pics. she was all, "yr grandpa's book is rite here." and she got it 4 me. i sed, "iris sez yr last session went well." and judith was all, "u know, i thot so 2. but as yr gramps was leaving, i cda thot i heard him saying 'no finger in my face, u bucking fitch!' but mayB i was just hearing things. i smiled and didn't say nething.
l8r still, i hadta meet w/diana artemis, esq., ph.d., ed.d., the childhood sweetheart/marriage-consultant lady from the johnston institute. we went 4 coffee @ the restaurant @ gordo's, and when i mentioned that it's been five wks since my "incident" w/ger, and that i want 2 talk things out w/him, she shook her head and sed "the queen sez it is 2 soon. remember what happened when u jumped the gun w/making up w/becky rite after she dissed u @ the grade-8 grad. u had 2 come up w/that ridiculous 'fake fite' thing so u cd still appear upset w/ea other, and then u grew apart neway, until it the queen thot it was time 4 a rapprochement."
i was all, "then what?" and she sed, "hold tite. things will b-come clear but don't b presumptuous." i wanted 2 ask more questions, but she threw down sum $ 4 the cheque and left v. abruptly.
apes
At 8:18 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Dearest future sister. I think Jeremy and I have reached a new level in our relationship. Jeremy has been nervous about being romantic with a girl in Grade 8, since technically I don’t go to R.P. Boire with you and my brother and my Jeremy flower full time. He doesn’t like it when people see us together at school, and call him loser.
Tonight, we were baby-sitting for Mr. Caine while he was out at the support group session at the Johnston Institute with my brother and I said to him, “Does it matter to you I am 2 years younger than you are?” And Jeremy said, “No.” Then I said, “I will be a full time student at R.P. Boire in September, just 4 months away. If I was Grade 9 and you were Grade 11, would it matter?” And Jeremy said, “No.” Then I said, “Then what difference does 4 months make?” And my Jeremy-flower said, “I don’t know. It shouldn’t, but it does.” Then I said, “It’s because I am fat, isn’t it?” And my Jeremy-flower said, “You’re not fat. You’re skinny.” And I said, “Well, if I’m skinny and 4 months shouldn’t matter, then what’s holding you back?” And my Jeremy-flower said, “It just doesn’t seem right.” I was getting very frustrated, and Jeremy looked like he was getting ready to leave when little Francie started crying and said, “You talk like mommy and daddy. Then mommy left. No! No! No!”
Well, Jeremy was very concerned, and he asked Francie what was wrong. Francie said, “Give mommy hug.” So Jeremy gave me a hug and Francie said, “Now give mommy kiss.” So Jeremy gave me a kiss. Francie seemed to be much happier and I was too. Then Jeremy ran about with Francie and they were having a good time, and from time to time, Francie would say, “Mommy hug.” Or “Mommy kiss.” And then I was the happy recipient of my Jeremy-flower’s affections. I was convinced that once little Francie went to bed, I would be able to convince Jeremy to go further than just hugging and kissing. He was not holding back at all on the hugs and kisses when little Francie commanded him. In fact he actually whispered to me I should be more affectionate, so little Francie would have a good role model for how men and women treat each other. It was a dream come true, April.
Later on, I had just gotten little Francie to sleep, and I had very high expectations of the rest of the evening. Jeremy and I were getting comfortable on the chesterfield. He was watching hockey and talking about the Senators versus the Sabres, and I was getting ready to head for Jeremy’s sabre to see if it could find a home in my Senate Chamber, when my brother arrived at Mr. Caine’s house with a large ball of yellow yarn and two knitting needles. My evening with Jeremy was wrecked again.
I wish your conversation with Dr. Artemis had been more about exactly when you are going to talk things out with brother, because if he is involved with you, then maybe he won’t be getting in my way. Jeremy went home and brother has been inundating me with questions about things I may have learned in home economics about knitting, which is not much. I think he is knitting you a sweater, but I am not entirely sure. It could just as easily be a model of the Toronto skyline.
Love,
Honoria Delaney-Forsythe
At 9:49 PM,
April Patterson said…
honoria, i wish dr. artemis and i cda talked abt when i m gonna have that convo w/ger, but it wasn't 2 b. she just sez "the witch of corbeil works in mysterious ways, and ours is not 2 ask why or when."
mike, dunc has reminded me that since i'm 16, i can get myself emancip8ed. i think i'll just do that and 4get abt this whole "adoption" idea u keep talking abt.
apes
At 10:38 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. Emancipated is an excellent idea. I mentioned the idea to Deanna and she said, “I guess April is more like Elizabeth than we thought.” Charging you room and board is much more cost effective than having to take care of you as a daughter. Deanna is all in favour of it. She says if we work the math right, we can actually get you to pay us to baby-sit, in exchange for letting you live in our house and eat our food. Deanna has been dancing around the kitchen at the thought of it. Please say that's what you are going to do.
Love,
Michael Patterson
Post a Comment
<< Home