April's Real Blog

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Oh, God, do I hafta?

I have to warn U. This l8est bit I just got from Iris ends in a bad, bad pun. Sorry, Iris, I know U were prolly trying 2 fit in w/my mom.

Iris wrote me this:
April, Dear, I know how you like to tell your story in bits and pieces, so I thought I'd try that with your mother's recent visit to see your Grandpa and me. So, here comes the next installment.

Your Grandpa was standing by the window, using his walker for support, and staring out at something. I put one hand on his back and said, "Jim? Elly brought your favourite casserole. I'll make some salad, and we'll have a nice dinner." He didn't say anything, and I walked over to your mom and told her, "He doesn't seem to listen to me. If he is... he doesn't respond." Your mother said, "He's been depressed. Maybe we should ask about increasing his medication." I told her, "But... he's already taking too many pills!" Then I took her into the kitchen to show her all the pills your Gramps takes. I told her, "He takes these before breakfast, those at noon, thse at dinner, and these before bed!" As I put the pills back into their cabinet, I said, "He's so full of chemicals, I call his stomach a hazardous waist site!" I couldn't see your mother at that moment, since she was behind me, but I had a distinct feeling we had a moment of bonding over my pun! She might start thinking of me as "family" after all, April!

Love,

Iris
Aw, Iris, I can understand wanting to fit in, but it's not worth it. Making puns like that just to impress my fam? Well, that's the kind of thing that chips away @ yr soul, I think.

Apes

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posted by April Patterson @ 6:08 AM  

9 Comments:

  • At 1:59 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Dearest future sister. I know when I have felt depressed, Pater, the psychologist, often suggests that what I need is a good conversation about my psychosexual self. I find my mood often improves, for no other reason than to avoid that kind of conversation with Pater. Since I am now engaged to Bronson van Daam, one of the eligible men in the world, I don’t think I could be happier.

    In fact, just this morning, I was standing by the window in my house, soaking up what little sunshine is allowed through our ultraviolet light screens (we would not want to accidentally get tan and ruin our skin), and staring out at something and imagining how my life is going to be as Mrs. Bronson van Daam. Mater came by and put one hand on my back and said something, but I was in too much of a state of bliss to respond. Then Pater came by and said something; but my mind was thinking about all the children Bronson and I are going to have. Then older brother came by and punched me in the stomach, but even that could not stir me from my reverie. Then my brother Gerald came by and told me some puns he had been practicing to get into your good graces when you return from the farm in Winnipeg. Animal-related, most of them. These puns did not stir me from my thoughts of Bronson, the best man in the world, and my fiancé.

    Then Mater and Pater and older brother and Gerald grabbed me and started yelling something about how I had taken too many pills, and I was clearly overdosing, since I didn’t respond when they talked to me. I started yelling I didn’t respond because I was happy and thinking of Bronson. Eventually they calmed down. It’s hard to believe someone can’t look out a window and get lost in thought, without someone thinking it’s drug-related.

    Love,
    Honoria Delaney-Forsythe

     

  • At 2:10 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. I see from your quoting of Iris that mom is back to her desire to use prescription drugs to solve every problem. I remember when I was very young, and mom wanted me to be a writer, because she always wanted to be a writer and some such psychological drama like that. Mom’s motivations always confused me.

    For one particular paper due in school, I got a severe case of writer’s block. I just couldn’t think of a thing, and I made the mistake of telling mom this was the case. Well, I was whisked off to visit Dr. McCaulay and mom told him, in no uncertain terms, I must be depressed because I had writer’s block and normally I don’t, so I needed a prescription for some anti-depressants. You should have seen mom’s face when Dr. McCaulay told her there were no drugs for writer’s block and he suggested she should stop pretending to be a doctor. Mom was furious, and I think she has never really liked Dr. McCaulay ever since.

    The plus side though, was I wrote a story about my mom and Dr. McCaulay, and got a good grade for it in school. The moral of the story, formerly little sis, is when you have writer’s block, just wait a little bit and mom will do something outlandish or irrational you can use for a story.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

  • At 2:24 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    Are you still talking about casseroles? Let me know when you’re done. If I think too much about your mom’s casseroles I will get depressed, and then I will need a prescription. Hey! Maybe the cause of your Grandpa Jim’s problems was the tuna noodle casserole. I have had Iris' salads before. They can't make up for one of your mom's casseroles. I am starting to get depressed now.

    Howard Bunt

     

  • At 3:22 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    honoria, pls ask ger NOT 2 practice puns 4 me. ask him 2 practice AVOIDING puns. that wd b way, way better.

    howard, me, no, i wasn't still talking abt casseroles. that was iris.

    apes

     

  • At 3:30 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    hey apes--remember when you were talking about your friend eva was being really snotty and mean to you? i said that my friends wre really cool and nice, and maybe you should make some new friends. well guess what? my friend bernice is suddenly being a total b!!!!. i dunno what i did! just she's suddenly like, 'your so annoying. i hate your voice.' it's weird, she's acting really prissy and kinda too old for her age, just like eva did. what's up with that?

     

  • At 5:32 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    I was told that ever since you turned 16, you have been dressing more like me. So, I think I will give you a little advice from me at no charge. Don’t hang around Luann DeGroot. She is not very aware of how she dresses or looks or smells or really much of anything else. Her “friend” Bernice Halper, has been making snide comments to her for months and it has taken this long for Luann to notice. Poor Luann does not have brains to make up for her lack of proper make up.

    Love and Kisses,
    Tiffany Farrell AKA
    Sheraton St. Louis, Miss Chamber of Commerce

     

  • At 5:34 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    All right. So you are talking about Iris who is talking about casseroles. That makes so much difference to my casserole-inflicted depression. I think I am going to concentrate on a happier subject like the speech I have to give for Jeremy Jones’ memorial service.

    Howard Bunt

     

  • At 5:37 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Dearest future sister. I did tell brother Gerald he should practice avoiding puns as you suggested. He replied that the best defence is a good offence. I have no earthly idea what he is talking about.

    Love,
    Honoria Delaney-Forsythe

     

  • At 6:15 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    luann, that's ruff abt denise. tiff, like yr myspace page, eh?

    howard, sorry, i don't like the casserole talk either. it is soooo good 2 b away from mom's food.

    honoria, i will talk 2 ger.

    apes

     

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