Liz gets caught chewing gum an' folding undies

Liz came by the (new) house 2day, all flippy cuz a student of hers and his mother saw her folding underwear and chewing bubble gum @ the laundromat. Of course, she'd gotten 2 the pt where she had NO clean clothes 2 wear, including what she had on (P.U.!), so she loaded all the clothes in the car that Mom helped her buy from Gordo. There was so much laundry, she cd barely cram it all in2 the trunk. Next, she drove out 2 the Lucky Laundromat that's next door 2 Café. Liz had put her hair into a sloppy bun using one of those plastic clips, and she put her glasses on.

She was totally "CHOMP-CHOMP-CHEWING" on tsum bubble gum as she was unloading the dryer. And as she took her last giant pile of clothes back 2 the counter, where she was folding (4 sum reason she was doing one load at a time, from start 2 finish, insteada using multiple washers and dryers), she was blowing a ginormous bubble. And Just then, she heard a kid's voice going, "Hey, Mom!" Then there was enuf of a delay 4 her 2 dump the clothes on the table and start folding sum lacy underpants B4 the kid who'd sed, "Hey, Mom!" continued w/"There's Miss Patterson! --My TEACHER!" And @ that moment, Liz's bubblegum bubble popped in her face, so that when the kid's Mom looked @ her, she had a gr8 big splat o' pink gum covering the area from just under her nose to rite under her mouth.

Liz sez that she was so mortified, she tossed all the laundry in2, like, 3 of those baskets that U use 2 take the clothes from the washers 2 the dryers, and as fast as she cd, she used them 2 take the clothes back 2 the car as fast as she cd. When she got here, she was all, "Mom! That boy is going 2 tell every1 abt my sloppy bun, my glasses, my stinky red t-shirt an' mom jeans, the lace underwear, and the pink gum on my face!" And I sed, "Also, he mite mention that U hi-tailed outta there like sum freak w/out saying NEthing. The Mom will prolly tell the parents, 2!" And of course Liz chased me around the house, but I know it better than her, so I dashed in2 a gd hiding place, and when she ran by, I seized her from behind and got her in2 a full nelson. And gave her noogies.

After we were dun w/that, Mom told her 2 calm down and sed that the kid wd prolly just tell other kids how amazed her is that a teacher does laundry and doesn't live in the school. Liz was not convinced, but since she was here, she decided 2 eat sum of our breakfast food. She sed, "MayB next time, I'll just bring my laundry here." And Dad walked in, all, "Open-door policy." ::smirk smirk::

Apes

In which Mike regrets teaching Merrie about SuperTeddy

And now, the aftermath of Mike's recent foto-reminiscithon w/Merrie:

April,

Formerly little sis. Remember 17 days ago, when I explained to my daughter about the glories of my Super Teddy of my youth and how you toss him through the air yelling, “Hiiyaaaaa Kowabunga Super Tedyyy!!”. Then remember how my daughter made her own Super Teddy and sent him hurling into my wife’s giant indoor potted plant. If you don’t remember that, then it will be difficult for you to understand what happened today. It’s probably best to think of that story and my story today as the writing of some middle-aged woman who planned to tell different parts of a story over 2 weeks apart without accounting for the disorientation caused by the separation in time, all because she could look at those 2 parts of the story at the same time.

As you may recollect, I had been telling you about mom and dad talking about chaos yesterday, as I was showing pictures of the conversation to my daughter. Well, as it turns out, my daughter made her escape from my story-telling / picture-showing and hid some place I couldn’t find her. And as is my wont, after spending a whole month telling stories using pictures about events in which I participated at best tangentially, I decided I was exhausted and needed to go to bed. Little did I suspect that my daughter would be in the process of passing down crucial history about Patterson youth and childhood to my son, by showing him how to make his own Super Teddy. I think this was because she was never able to extract her Super Teddy out of the potted plant.

I heard them talking in another room through the paper thin walls of our house. My son said to my daughter, “Whatcha doing?” My daughter said to my son, “I’m making a Super Teddy!” My son said to my daughter, “But that’s MY Teddy!” My daughter said to my son, “When I’m done, he’ll be better than your teddy. He’ll have SUPER POWERS!.” I know you must thinking, formerly little sis, I didn’t actually tell my daughter Super Teddy had super powers. In fact I told her quite the opposite. Naturally, the only way I can tolerate an outright lie like that coming from one of my family members, is if it is accompanied by a pun. Being the patient man I am, I decided to wait for the pun.

I heard my children padding down the hallway to my room. My son said to my daughter, “He will?” My daughter said to my son, “Uh huh…All I hafta do is this…” I took at little glance at them to make sure they were coming in. I was a little startled that my daughter was about 2/3 the length of the door, making her about 1 ½ metres tall.

I was however, impressed with my daughter’s startlingly good aim. The Super Teddy “Whap!”ed into my head and missed my wife’s head completely as my daughter said, “Hi-Yaaa Kowabungaaahh Super Teddy!” It was close to my demonstrated “Hiiyaaaaa Kowabunga Super Tedyyy!!” yell. I opted not to complain, but instead decided it would be worthwhile to give them notes on how to improve.

As I hover-chased my children hover-running down the hallway in order to give them notes, my son said to my daughter, “You got daddy out of bed!!” My daughter said to my son, “See…Super Powers!” Now, formerly little sis, getting me out of bed is easier than you think (as the Kelpfroths learned when they tried to burn my family to death). My claim is that I was tired after spending the last month looking at photographs and needed the rest and the opportunity to grow a slight beard. Instead I got the opportunity to run and practice my Boris Karloff imitation. It was not my best imitation, but it was good enough to frighten my children.

Sunday tomorrow, formerly little sis, and I think I am sleeping in, provided I am not pelted with bears.

Love,
Michael Patterson

LOL, Mike! U prolly need 2 think twice abt what else U teach yr kiddles abt what U did when U were a kid.

Howard, U R rite, we def. need more clues abt Jeremy. Every single boy who is not Gerald or Duncan did not go on that joy ride in Dad's car. Ooh, but OTOH, Dad DID take Jeremy out 4 all those test drives while trying 2 decide which car 2 buy. Do U think THAT cd B a clue? I dunno, that also feels like grasping @ straws.

Apes

Chaos and Eyebrows

The good news is that we mite just wrap this up 2morrow. Mike sez:

April,

Formerly little sis. Today when I showed my daughter photographs from our photo album, I decided to play a little game with her called, “Which kid is which?” And “Count the eyebrows.” I showed my daughter the first picture. It was of mom either putting something over the head of me or Lizzie, or mom is trying to cut off the breathing of someone. I think it was Lizzie. She was the kid everyone tried to strangle.

Mom has a word balloon which says, “So, how did you like being a bachelor for two weeks?” My daughter said, “What’s a bachelor, daddy?” I said, “A bachelor is a man who is not married.” My daughter said, “Grampa John was not married to Gramma Elly?” I said, “No. He was pretending what life would be without her.” My daughter said, “Why would he do that?” I said, “You spent January to July living with mom, so you should know.” My daughter said, “Oh, right. I remember now.” I said, “Which kid is which?” My daughter said, “Auntie Elizabeth.” I said, “Count the eyebrows.” My daughter counted 1 big one on mom, and one normal one on dad.

In the next picture, dad is using my pyjamas to try and strangle me (showing I was just as good as Lizzie, I will have you notice), while mom is holding screaming Lizzie. I don’t look too upset, so perhaps dad is really trying to get me ready for bed and not end my life. There is a word balloon coming from his mouth which says, “Oh…it was O.K. for a while…” My daughter said, “Grampa John doesn’t like life without Gramma Elly and kids. Do you ever get to be a bachelor, daddy?” I said, “Not since you were born, daughter.” I said, “Which kid is which?” My daughter said, “You are with Grampa John. Auntie Elizabeth is with Gramma Elly.” I said, Count the eyebrows.” My daughter counted one on mom, and the kids don’t have one. Dad has one, but it is hiding in his hair.

In the next picture, dad is putting me to bed, while mom holds Lizzie over my head, so her spit could go on my head. Yes, formerly little sis. That was just as disgusting as it sounded. Mom has a word balloon which says, “What did you miss the most?” I said to my daughter, “This is one of those trick questions, you will have to learn when you become a mom. Dad is trapped, because he has to say he missed something about mom and me and Lizzie.” My daughter said, “He didn’t really miss you?” I said, “Yes, but thanks to mom, he also has to say it.” I said, “Which kid is which?” My daughter said, “You are with Grampa John. Auntie Elizabeth is with Gramma Elly.” I said, Count the eyebrows.” My daughter counted 2 on mom, and the kids and dad don’t have one.

In the next picture, dad has his hands around crying Lizzie. His eyes are bulging out, while mom looks surprised at his change in appearance. There is a word balloon coming out of dad which says, “The chaos.” My daughter said, “He misses ‘the chaos’? What’s ‘chaos’ daddy?” I said, “It’s like when you try to combine two different jokes together and no one laughs.” I said, “Which kid is which?” My daughter said, “Auntie Elizabeth.” I said, Count the eyebrows.” My daughter counted 2 on mom, and Lizzie and dad don’t have one.

More tomorrow, formerly little sis,

Love,
Michael Patterson

I'm predicting a present-day wrap-up 2morrow, foax, w/Mike and Merrie having a little summary convo. Then we get our usual Sunday change-o'pace (who knew so many ppl wd start looking forward 2 Sunday?). And then. Maybe. Just MAYBE. We'll get an upd8 on Lizzie. W8 an' C, eh?

Howard, the weirdest thing this morning. I decided 2 try an xxperiment. I took my fone and found a pic I had of Jeremy from sum time when I was taking lotsa pix. I held it up 2 the mirror in the bathroom. And guess what? Next 2 my reflection in the mirror, suddenly there was Jeremy. Not in the fone, but full-size. Only I realized he must B "ymereJ"--he had these really cruel eyes and when I looked at him, I felt this weird electric twinge in my gut. I ducked down outta site, went in2 image editing, and I did a "mirror image" flip on the picture. Then I stood again, held up the pic. And I swear, the Jeremy from OUR world showed up. He looked, like, really glad 2 C me. But then Mom started banging on the bathroom door, and I hadta go.

Apes

Reminiscing the Return

In case NE1 was wagering on when Mike wd get 2 the part of his story when they get back home fr. Vancouver, here it is:

April,

Formerly little sis. In the next pictures I showed my daughter from my trip to Vancouver it was pictures of us coming home.

The first picture is of mom with really bushy eyebrows coming through the door of our house and saying, “Whew What a trip!”, as dad is holding on to Elizabeth. The script mom gave me with the pictures says, “It was fun to visit Grandpa Jim and Grandma Marian, but it was good to get home.” My daughter said, “Grampa Jim. Gramma Marian.” I said, “I know. I know.” My daughter looked at the picture and said, “Where are you, daddy?” Once again my observant daughter noticed a particular aspect of the picture which I was not so anxious to tell in my story. I said, “I’m around there somewhere.” My daughter said, “Are you in the next pictures you have?” I said, “Most likely.” My daughter took them out of my hand and said, “You’re not there, Daddy. Where were you?” I said, “Well, daughter. This won’t make Gramma Elly look very good, but she forgot me. She was so tired from packing up suitcases for the trip back; she didn’t check I wasn’t on the plane with her.” My daughter said, “What happened?” I said, “I got to take the next plane, and Dad had to drive to the airport to get me, even though he didn’t want to.” My daughter said, “Why not?” I said, “Mom was being really nice to Dad because of some cleaning he did, and he didn’t want her to stop.” My daughter said, “’Really nice.’ What does that mean?” I said, “Let’s look at the next picture.”

In the next picture, mom has turned to a silhouette looking at the kitchen. The word balloon coming out of her is “John—You cleaned up the entire house!” My daughter said, “That’s not the entire house. That’s the kitchen.” I said, “Well, to mom, it was the entire house.” My daughter said, “Doesn’t she know the difference?” I said, “Back in those days, no. Daughter, you know your Gramma Elly as a super cleaner, but when she was younger, she was very messy.” My daughter said, “Daddy. Are you lying to me?” I said, “No, daughter. Just think of how your Auntie Liz is now.” My daughter said, “Poor daddy.” I said, “I know. I know.”

In the next picture, mom is hugging dad and has her arms around his neck, while dad returns the embrace. It is a really strange picture, because it reminds me mom and dad used to actually do that. Dad has a thought balloon which says, “Some things one does as a means to survival…” My daughter said, “What does that mean—‘means to survival’.” I said, “It means, “a way to live through a bad thing happening.” My daughter said, “What bad thing?” I said, “How mom would have acted if she came home and the house wasn’t clean.” My daughter said, “But the house wasn’t clean. Just the kitchen.” I said, “OK. OK. If mom came home and the kitchen wasn’t clean.” My daughter said, “What bad thing would happen?” I said, “You remember how I talked about how Grampa Jim had to tell me he was going to blow up the TV to get me to let him read me a book?” My daughter said, “Yes.” I said, “Like that, except instead of a big explosion, it would be mom screaming at the top of her lungs.” My daughter said, “Ouch! Daddy! You mean Grampa John wanted to keep Gramma Elly from screaming? That’s why he cleaned the kitchen?” I said, “Yes. When I was growing up, we did whatever we could to keep mom from screaming.” My daughter said, “Poor daddy.” I said, “I know. I know.”

My daughter said, “But Daddy. Aren’t you going to show me some pictures of Gramma Marian being great?” I said, “I already showed you those.” My daughter said, “No you didn’t.” I said, “Yes I did. I showed you Gramma Marian picking us up from the airport. I showed you Gramma Marian knitting and talking to mom. I showed you Gramma Marian looking at Grampa Jim read us a book. I showed you Gramma Marian playing with Lizzie. I showed you Gramma Marian getting in a fight with mom.” My daughter said, “That’s other people. The only thing she did with you was pick you up from an airport.” I said to my daughter, “Sometimes the mark of greatness is picking someone up from the airport. My daughter said, “Huh?”

More tomorrow, formerly little sis.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Well, I'm glad I xxplained 2 Merrie was great-grandparents R. Now she doesn't hafta B as confused. Oh, and our new house is so small, the kitchen almost IS the whole house. MayB that's Y Mom decided the place wd B A-OK w/her.

Apes

Mom and Gramps and Nature

Mike had this 2 say abt the next installment of his reminiscing over fotos w/Merrie:

April,

Formerly little sis. It is interesting how nature can change the mood of things. Just yesterday I was showing my daughter pictures of my trip to Vancouver to visit Grampa Jim and Gramma Marian, and after 2 weeks of the visit it seemed like mom and our grandparents were getting on each others’ nerves. Then today I had 4 more pictures to show to my daughter which turned all of that around.

In the first picture, mom, who desperately needs to pull up her pants, is walking beside Grampa Jim, who has Lizzie on his back in a backpack which seems to consist solely of shoulder straps. They are walking by a stream in the outdoors with lots of pine trees. Across the stream way in the background, 2 giant silhouetted unicorns prepared for battle, but nobody seemed to notice them. I was beside the stream reaching for stream rocks. I know you might be thinking I could end up injuring my eyes with those rocks, but not to fear formerly little sis, I did not have any eyes at that moment, showing that our Patterson tendency to have eyes mysteriously and unexpectedly disappear was a trait that occurred even at an early age. Grampa Jim’s word balloon said, “Sigh—You’ll be back in Toronto soon.---These visits are just too short.” My daughter said, “I thought Grampa Jim was mad at Gramma Elly for yelling at him about his smoking.” I said, “That only lasted as long as Grampa Jim smoked his cigarettes and during the long coughing fits he had from smoking them. Otherwise, Grampa Jim and mom got along great.” My daughter said, “Huh?”

In the next picture, Grampa Jim has apparently taken off the backpack and Lizzie, while he and mom are sitting on a fallen tree together. Lizzie is in front of them either tasting or licking dirt. In the background, I have found my stream rocks and thrown them skyward, I think in an attempt to appease the stream gods to get my eyes back. Grampa Jim’s word balloon says, “Seems like yesterday you were as small as Elizabeth.” My daughter said, “Why do old people say that?” I said, “Say what?” She said, “’Seems like yesterday’ for things a long time ago.” I said, “When you get old, you lose your short term memory.” My daughter said, “What’s a short term memory?” I said, “It’s the things you remember that just happened yesterday. When you forget them, then the things a long time ago seem like they happened yesterday. Understand?” My daughter said, “No, daddy. Forget I asked.” I said, “Asked what?” My daughter said, “Huh?”

In the next picture, I can see mom and Grampa Jim still sitting on the log and staring at each other. Mom has her arms crossed in front of her breasts and Grampa Jim’s face seems a little flushed. Lizzie has taken dirt and put it in her hair, while I am slowly sneaking up on her. I can sneak up on her, because the stream gods granted my request to get my eyes back. The word balloon from mom’s mouth says, “You still think of me as your little girl, don’t you, dad?” You know, formerly little sis, I really don’t want to think about why mom is protecting her breasts and Grampa Jim’s face looks flushed, after that statement. My daughter said, “What does that mean, daddy?” I said, “Daddies remember their daughters when they were little and cute, even when they are older and not so cute.” My daughter said, “Oh! When I am old, you will think of me like I am now?” I said to her, “Daughter, with your facial features as they are now, you will probably not look much different when you are older.” My daughter said, “Huh?”

In the last picture, mom and Grampa Jim are still on the fallen log, but now it looks like our friend, Good Ol’ Charlie Brown put on a wig and mom’s clothes for the picture where she hugs Grampa Jim. Mom used to say that she sometimes used a stunt double for pictures she had taken hugging Grampa Jim, and it looks like that’s what happened in this one. In the foreground, I am putting dirt in Lizzie’s hair, just like she put dirt in her own hair. I look pleased. She looks startled. I think this is because Lizzie planned to put more dirt in her own hair, and I beat her to it. The word balloon coming out of Grampa Jim’s mouth is “No---but if you’re allowed to grow up, I’m allowed to get mushy about it.” I am not sure what “mushy” meant for Grampa Jim, but it might be the “mushy” way his eyeballs are positioned on his head, or the “mushy” way he grew a left breast. My daughter said, “Oh. Grampa Jim is sad Gramma Elly is old.” I said, “Aren’t we all?” My daughter said, “Huh?”

More tomorrow, formerly little sis.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Hm, I shd hire a stunt dbl 4 fotos. I'd have so much time 4 other stuff, and Mom is such a terrible fotog., she alwayz finds the most unflattering poss angles 4 her shots. MayB if I cd get that girl Grace, who's friends w/Shannon, 2 wear a wig w/my hairdo and colour?

And yeah, pretty much every1 is sad that Mom is old and not-cute.

Apes

The trip was wrapping up

Mike had another installment in his reminiscing w/Merrie:

April,

Formerly little sis. You may remember that I led my daughter to her bedroom, where she showed me her stuffed animals Rags, Ditzy, Woggy, and Blue Bell. And of course her remote control, whom she calls Buttons, which her child psychologist gave her to help her with her recurring nightmare about being burned while she is sleeping. She can use Buttons to change her dreams, if she doesn’t like it. Well, even though my daughter was fully dressed, she decided to crawl under her covers and go to bed. She curled up with her stuffed rabbit, and shoved her curly-haired doll to the side and kept Buttons in her hand.

I got into her bed and lay down beside her to continue my story about Gramma Marian and our trip to Vancouver.” My daughter tried to pretend she was sleeping. I said to her, “Daughter. You don’t fool me. It’s the middle of the day, and you don’t snore.” Then my daughter picked up her Buttons remote, pointed it at me and pressed the buttons several times, as if that would work.

I launched into my story about the pictures I had to show her. I said, “Two weeks was a long visit. Eventually we started to get on each other’s nerves. Mom was on Grandpa Jim’s case about his smoking and things got tense.” My daughter said, “Grampa Jim.” I said, “Did I say Grandpa again?” My daughter said, “Yes. If two weeks was a long visit, how would 4 weeks of looking at photos be?” I said, “Daughter. You better get used to looking at photos. Our family is going to be doing that for a long time.” My daughter sighed the deep sigh of Patterson resignation.

So I pulled the first picture out of my pocket to show her. It was of Gramma Marian putting a red sweater over her blue shirt. Mom was wearing blue too, and she said to Gramma Marian, “Do you have to wear blue all the time, mom? ---And why don’t you change your hair?” My daughter laughed and laughed. I said, “What’s so funny?” She said, “Gramma Elly never changes her hair and she wears the same colours all the time. Gramma Marian is just like Gramma Elly.” I said, “That is a very good comparison, but do not ever let mom hear you say that.” My daughter said, “Why?” I said, “Mom likes to think she is different from Gramma Marian.”

Then I showed my daughter the next picture. In it is Grampa Jim in the background chain-smoking, which is how I most remembered him. Gramma Marian is holding her coffee cup, which is how I most remembered her. Mom has her hand over her mouth and is not saying anything, which is how I wish I remembered her. Gramma Marian said, “We’ve always been sorry you didn’t finish university before getting married, Elly…” My daughter said, “Why would they be sorry?” I said, “Because Gramma Marian and Grampa Jim paid for mom to go to university and she quit after a few months to start working to save some money.” My daughter said, “You mean, Gramma Elly kept her school money?” I said, “Yes.” My daughter said, “No wonder Gramma Marian was mad. They gave Gramma Elly money to go to school and she kept it and didn’t go to school. That’s like stealing.” I said, “No, it’s not stealing.” My daughter said, “If you gave me money to buy something for school, and I kept it instead, what would you think?” I said, “I would think there was going to be a young lady who was going to be very sorry.” My daughter said, “Oh!”

In the next picture there was mom sitting in front of two silhouettes, one of Grampa Jim with either a cigarette or a tongue hanging out of his mouth. The other was of Gramma Marian walking away. Mom has a thought balloon written on the picture saying, “I wondered how long it would take before we resumed our old parent-daughter roles…” My daughter said, “What does that mean?” I said, “Mom and Gramma Marian and Grampa Jim all had things they were mad about with each other. Mom didn’t like the way Gramma Marian looked. Gramma Marian was mad mom did not use her university money for university. Grampa Jim was mad because he just was, most of the time, particularly when he smoked. Whenever we visited, they would be nice for awhile, so mom would agree to come back. Then mom would start picking at them about things.” My daughter said, “The same way she does now.” I said, “Exactly. Just like today, except Gramma Marian is dead.”

My daughter said, “When you get old and I come to visit you, are you going to show me photos?” I said, “What do you mean?” My daughter said, “Because Gramma Elly and Gramma Marian did what they used to do. What we are used to doing, is what we did today. We looked at old pictures.” I said, “Maybe. You never know.” My daughter said, “I don’t want to ever get old.” I said, “You don’t have anything to worry about, then daughter. You are going to stay young forever.” My daughter pointed her Buttons at me, and clicked the buttons a few more times.

More tomorrow, formerly little sis.

Love,
Michael Patterson

I admit, I hadta LOL that Mom was on Grandma Marian's case abt changing her hair, since Mom's been wearing her hair in that bun since 1996. I've tried 2 suggest changes, but she alwayz ignores me.

Howard, I'm not sure what 2 make of that message from Lirpa:

April,

Just Eat Real Elbow Macaroni You
Love It’s Vibrant Exquisite Sauce

– lirpA

I wonder if it's code. I hafta think abt it.

Apes

Remembered Threats Against the TV

Mike is back, so I'm back home. Oh, and despite what many of us were hoping, the reminiscing isn't wrapped up yet:

April,

Formerly little sis. Deanna and I are finally back from our kid-free vacation to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, and if Deanna tells you our next vacation to Mexico will be with the kids, don’t believe her. Just because the Hotel Riu Vallarta had a pool set aside just for kids, and activities just for kids and daily excursion trips just for kids doesn’t mean that we should take kids along. After all, if my kids were there, I would not have gotten so much written about Leonard Driscoll and his adventures in my second novel Breaking the Windjammer. There is nothing like sitting on an ocean beach all day long with a laptop to fire the imagination of a novelist trying to understand a sailor’s life and the spectacular need the sailors had for a good sunblock. We also took the Pirate Ship excursion during one of our days there and I discovered that pirates, aside from being a bloodthirsty lot, also had quite a business in selling pirate t-shirts and other paraphernalia. Imagine how authentic my book is going to be, chocked full of these kinds of details.

In the meantime, I was able to get back to doing photo reminiscing with my daughter today, after I convinced her that there was not actually going to be a quiz if she didn’t do it (What were you telling the girl, formerly little sis?), but that she would not get her authentic pirate t-shirt Deanna bought for her, unless she did. There is nothing like a t-shirt with a skull-and-crossbones on it to inspire a young girl to look at old photos.

The violent nature of the pirate life in Mexico reminded me a lot of the more violent aspects of Grampa Jim back during my trip to visit him in Vancouver all those years ago. I told my daughter that Grampa Jim was notorious for threatening to blow up things to get his way, and back in those days I believed he was a demolitions expert in World War II. These days I know he spent his time repairing airplanes in WWII and never saw any action himself, but as an impressionable 6-year-old, when Grampa brings out the dynamite and the plunger with the line, you are inclined to believe him. Why he had that stuff in his garage I still do not know. I do know he kept it in a box labeled “Parenting Equipment.”

In the first picture I am sitting on the floor in front of the television, grasping my knees in fear at the disturbing programming on the television which was known as 1970s Vancouver local kids programmes. It was something with a puppet and a stick. It was terrifying and the picture shows my terror quite clearly. Grampa Jim approached with a book in his mutilated left hand and said, “Hi there, Mike---What do you say we read a book?” I told my daughter I remembered my response clearly. It was, “You want me to say we read a book?” Then my Grampa Jim said, “No. What do you say we read a book?” Then I said, “I think I would say ‘We read a book’ or do you mean in some other kind of language?” Then Grampa Jim said, “No. Not another language. I mean what do you say we read a book?” Then I gave up trying to understand him and said, “I’m watching this horrifying Vancouver kids programme.”

In the next picture, it showed Grampa Jim giving me his response, “You can watch that any day!---How often do you and I read a story?” I told my daughter I remembered my response clearly. It was, “Every day we’ve been here.” I reminded my daughter that just last week I showed her a picture of Grampa Jim reading Lizzie and me a story. She said, “Grampa Jim must have forgot.” I said, “Right, daughter. Every day, a story with Grampa Jim and they were these long books that lasted for hours. “Real Estate Investment for the Elderly” or “So, You’re Thinking about Dying.” It was great to have a break with a television programme, even if it was a scary Vancouver kids’ programme.”

In the next picture, Grampa Jim is in his chair with Lizzie and me and a book cutting off our ability to breathe, as Gramma Marian came up and said, “Well, I see Grampa hasn’t lost his touch!” My daughter said, “That’s Gramma Marian?” I said, “I think so.” My daughter said, “How can you tell?” I said, “She’s carrying her coffee in a coffee cup with tray and not a coffee mug.” My daughter had to concede the point. It was obviously not mom.

In the next picture we see Lizzie and me looking worried as Grampa Jim has a thought balloon going, “Because Grampa just threatened to blow up the T.V.” I remember that sense of worry which continued for most of the rest of my visit. Grampa Jim attaching the dynamite and the plunger to the television, and my protests of “No, Grampa. I don’t want to read the book about early retirement planning again!” Eventually the threats by Grampa won out. After all, I was only 6-years-old and not old enough to realize that Gramma Marian would beat the stuffing out of Grampa Jim if he really blew up the television. These days Grampa Jim is an old man who curses like an airman, because he supposedly has no control over his speech. Back in those days, Grampa Jim was simply the kindly old nutcase, who cursed like an airman and who thought nothing about pulling out dynamite and a plunger to make a point about the importance of reading.

Well, it’s good to be back from Mexico and I look forward to sharing more experiences with you, as the week progresses.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Hey, Mike, how do U know 4 sure there WON'T be a quiz? And if there is, R U sure U wd pass?!?

Poor Dee, it sounds like she musta been v. lonely during that vacation.

Apes

Dad's abs R relaxing

I'm still @ Mike an' Dee's place until Mike an' Dee get back from their no-kid Mexico vacation. We're having Belgian waffles 4 brekky and Merrie's talking abt how glad she is that we have a break from all the foto-reminiscing. Robin is playing w/his food. Oh, and Mom was just here. So U know that means I hadta make a second batch of waffles after she left, yo!

Yeah, so Mom was here 2 goss abt Dad. When he got up this morning, all scratching his butt (yuck), and then brushing his teeth, Mom decided 2 pt out, "Wow. U're getting quite a paunch there, honey!" And Dad protested,"What paunch? I don't have a paunch!!" Then she sed that he strained 2 suck in his gut, while closing his eyes. And w/his eyes still shut, he was all, "What I have is relaxed abdominals. All I have 2 do is tighten the abs a bit! It doesn't take much 2 flatten this out. ....Just a few specific exercises. When I'm ready, I'll go down 2 the gym and take care of it." Then she sez that he finished brushing his teeth (still w/his eyes shut), and she's pretty sure that he was thinking, "There's nothing wrong w/relaxed abdominals. ...If it was an actual PAUNCH, I'd B worried abt it."

As Mom was getting ready 2 leave, brushing the waffle crumbs from her mouth, shirt, and pants, Merrie asked, "Do U have relaxed tushy muscles, Grandma Elly? And relaxed tummy muscles, relaxed hip muscles, and relaxed thigh muscles?" Mom was like, "::sob:: It's Connie's fault! She hasn't made me jog l8ly!" And she ran off in a tiff. Merrie can B kinda awesome sumtymez!

Apes

Edit: Weird thing just happened. I M still @ Mike an' Dee's place, w8ing 4 them 2 return fr. their trip. Just now, I went 2 use the washroom, and as I was checking my hair in the mirror, I noticed my reflection not doing what I was doing. Instead she, like breathed on2 her side of the mirror, like 2 cloud it up. And then, she wrote: ".noos pleh ry deen etim I tub ,emit hcum evah t'nod I. emit erom eno ereh kcehc d'I toht tub pu evag tsomla I !erehwyreve U rof gnikool neeb ev'I .R U ereht ,apriL"

Super Teddy, the Bear That Listened

So Mom left her instructions 4 this morning's reminiscing. Finally, it was the ones we were xxpecting 2 discuss yesterday. Merrie and I hadta look @ sum pix where Mike is wearing his jammies and sitting on the edge of Mom's old Vancouver bed. Gramps is--well, Merrie and I weren't exactly sure WHAT he was doing--kneeling, bending, standing in a ditch. In the 1st of the 4 pix, U see Mike sitting in profile, and Gramps (also in profile) has one hand on Mike's right knee--Gramps kinda leaning in--his forearm is parallel 2 the floor and slightly lower than Mike's leg level. His face is slightly higher than Mike's face is. They're mostly in these positions in all 4 pix, tho in #2, Gramps has his arms holded across his chest, in #3, he has his rite hand on Mike's left shoulder, and in the final pic, he has his arms sloping down.

Oh, and Mom gave us a replacement 4 the original 1st picture. The original 1st pic has a speech bubble for Gramps: "Aw, come on, Mike--U're 2 old 2 want a teddy bear anyways!" Like I sed yesterday, Mike had 4gotten his Super Teddy behind @ the house. He didn't realize it until they were on their way 2 the airport. And he was only, like, 6 yrs old. I kinda think 6 yo isn't "2 old." I told this 2 Merrie, cuz she looked kinda worried. Well, the replacement pic had a caption @ the top that was supposed 2 B Mike xxplaining, "Grandpa Jim tried 2 convince me that I was 2 old 4 a teddy bear." And Gramps was given a smaller speech bubble, with "U're a big boy now!" Weird, I wonder Y Mom didn't just let the original version stand. It still conveyed the same info.

NEway, the second pic has a speech bubble 4 Mike: "But, Grampa, I need Superteddy! --I talk 2 him every nite!" Oh, w8, Mom gave us a replacement 4 this pic, but the only change is that she made it "Super Teddy" instead. I wonder Y? And #3 has a speech bubble for Gramps: "Michael! Big boys know that Teddys don't talk!" And the last foto has a speech bubble 4 Mike: "...I know. But he listens."

Merrie wanted 2 know what this hasta do w/Grandma Marian being "gr8." I told her absolutely nothing, but her Grandma Elly (my mom) wants her 2 know this stuff 4 sum reason. Merrie sed, "U know, Grandpa Wilf wd never tell me that I'm 2 old 4 my teddy, even if I were six years old." I sed, "I know." Then I told her that Grandpa Jim never treated me this way when I was little, but that mayB we shdn't tell her dad ("Attic Guy"), 'else he cd get jealous.

Robin wasn't interested in the fotos @ all. He stuck w/his Dr. Suess's ABC instead.

Apes

If Mike were here

Last nite, Mike called in a panic cuz he realized he left out "a crucial element" of the story. And it was supposta B told in Merrie's bedroom. He sed that if he were here, he'd walk Merrie 2 the stairs while saying, "The one big problem w/the trip was that I had 4gotten Super Teddy!"" Then as they got 2 the doorway of her room, Mike was 2 say, "H was my absolute favourite toy, and I couldn't sleep w/out him." Merrie's line was, "I know." Then she was meant 2 sit on her bed, pick up a TV remote control, and say, "I can' sleep w/out Rags, Ditzy, Woggy, Blue Bell and Buttons." And when Mike sed, "Buttons?" Merrie was supposta hold out the remote control and say, "Yah! ...If I don'tlike a dream I'm having--I can change it!"

When I told Merrie all this, she asked, "Y wd I say that? That's dumb!" And I told her, "I guess Mom and Mike thot it sounded cute." She sed, "Auntie April, I was all ready 2 discuss the pix of Great-Gramps Jim and Mike talking abt his teddy." I sed, "Yeah, so was I. Is it our fault that 'Attic Guy' plans so poorly?" She shook her head. "No, and if he didn't plan so poorly, he wdn't have 4gotten Super Teddy either. I know he was little, but I plan better than that! And I'm younger than he was then." I sed, "U R. And U do."

Then Robin sed, "Wobbin feel neglected!" So we talked to him abt Elmo 4 a while.

Apes

Wonderful years

So, Mom came by bright and early with her notes for the reminiscing. "Do it right, April!" was what she shouted over her shoulder as she left. Yeah.

Well, I made pancakes and settled@ the kitchen table w/Merrie and Robin. Robin wasn't really interested in the pics, so he stuck w/his Hop on Pop book instead. Merrie was all, "So which pictures did Grandma Elly pick?" I sed, "She skipped over the ones w/yr Grandpa John back here in Milboro and went 2 the ones w/Grandma Marian cuddling yr Auntie Liz, while sitting w/yr Grandma Elly. I pted out 4 pix in this lil series. Mom had her hair down loose around her shoulders and sat alongside Grandma Marian, who's holding Liz while Liz loox like she wants to grab @ Grandma Marian's earring. Merrie asked, "Is Auntie Liz trying 2 steal that earring?" I sed, "MayB. In the 2nd and 4th picture, we can C she's grabbed on2 Grandma Marian's matching necklace."

Merrie asked, "Is Liz a kleptomaniac?" I sed, "I don't think so. But she does get distracted by shiny things. Anyway, let's see what the speech bubbles say. Merrie sed, "Y do these fotos have speech bubbles? My friends' families don't put speech bubbles in their pictures." I sed, "It's b-cuz yr Grandma Elly dreamed of being a cartoonist, like Charles Schultz. But she never learned how 2 draw, and she dropped out of uni B4 she had a chance 2 learn much abt writing. So instead of cartooning, went thru all her pix and wrote in speech bubbles." Merrie was all, "WEIRD!" And I sed, "Yeah."

So I pted @ the 1st picture, and Merrie read it out loud: "I must say--I do enjoy being a Grandma, Elly!" Merrie wanted 2 know if this means G'ma Marian expected 2 h8 being a Grandma, but I didn't have an answer 4 her. Next bubble, I read:" I'm free 2 luv and spoil these 2--then give them back when they're tired!" I was like, "Hmph! By the time I came along, Mom had established her no-spoiling-by-grandparents policy." Merrie agreed that this was sad. "I like Grandma Mira. She likes to spoil us." I agreed that grandparents are supposed 2 B able 2 do that.

On 2 the next frame, Merrie read: "No sleepless nites, no diapers, no mess, no babysitters, no tears--" Then I picked up the last frame: "Oh, why did those wonderful years go by so fast?" Mom gives her a little smile as she sez this. Merrie sed, "Auntie April, Mike wasn't there 4 this conversation. Y was he gonna B the one who tells me abt this?" I sed, "I don't know. 4 sum reason Mom has decided that Mike is, like, the family spokesperson now." Merrie was like, "Oh. Auntie April, was this going 2 help xxplain Y Grandma Marian was so gr8? I think Mike 4got 2 answer that."

I shook my hed and sed, "If this family weren't so hung up on wordplay, Mike mite have explained what a 'gr8 grandparent' is. It's not like a r8ing system, from fair grandparent through gr8 and gr8est. 'Great grandparent' just means your parents' grandparents. Yr Gr8-Grandma Marian was just yr father's grandmother. Your grandma Elly's Mom. Your parents' great-grandparents wd B yr great-great-grandparents. 4 Every generation, U add another 'gr8.'"

Merrie shook her hed and sed, "Is that all? Well, now that I know, can we just skip over the rest the pictures while Mom and Attic Guy R away?" And I sed, "Don't 4get yr Grandma Elly wants us 2 do this. There mite B a quiz." And Merrie sed, "Oh, yeah."

Then we finished off breakfast and Mom came by 2 take them 2 school and daycare.

Apes

What "Grampas" R 4

Here's the next installment of Mike's foto-reminiscences w/Merrie (and the last B4 his trip w/Dee 2 Mexico):

April,

Formerly little sis. Today going over mom's old photos with my daughter I covered the reason grampas exist. You see, April, when mom and I and Elizabeth took that trip to Vancouver all those years ago, one of things which was drilled into my head was, “When you see Grampa Jim, be sure to jump on him and torment him. That’s what Grampas are for!” My daughter said, “I never do that with Grampa John or with Grampa Wilf. I miss Grampa Wilf.” I said, “As I have told you before, daughter, now we live in Milborough we will probably never see Grampa Wilf again.” My daughter said, “Why not?’ I said, “Because he’s married to Gramma Mira. Now let me show you the pictures.”

The first picture showed a marvel of coordination. I leapt onto Grampa Jim’s lap, which was normally one of his favourite things for me to do; but not when Elizabeth was right on top of me to grab his nose. You may think it’s an easy thing to leap on a lap with your baby sister on your back, but it’s not. It requires planning and precise timing. Grampa Jim had a book out, preparing for us to come to his lap to read. Little did he suspect what we had planned in terms of a frontal assault. It worked perfectly, and Elizabeth even threw in a “Ga-Ga!” as she grabbed Grampa Jim’s nose. Mom was in the picture too. I think she might have been trying to stop us, but she got her right arm confused with her left arm, as you can tell in the picture from the fact her right hand is the closest to the photographer, when it should be her left. My daughter was impressed. She said, “Can Robin and I do that with Grampa John?” I said, “Certainly. Whenever dad is in a chair getting ready to read you a book, then go for it.” My daughter said, “Oh, well. Grampa John never sits in a chair to read us a book.”

In the next picture mom is pulling me off Grampa Jim as I was trying to check his belly for internal injuries. The word balloon in front of her says, “Stop it, you two! You’ve been tormenting and jumping on Grampa all day!” My daughter said, “Grampa Jim looks funny. His nose shines like Rudolph.” I said, “You’re right, daughter. And he wasn’t even drinking that day.” My daughter said, “Rudolph doesn’t drink.” I said, “I mean Grampa Jim.” My daughter said, “Why is his nose all shiny?” I said, “I believe Elizabeth broke it, if I remember correctly; but Grampa Jim refused to go to a doctor until after we left.” My daughter said, “Is that why you stopped tormenting and jumping on Grampa Jim?” I said, “No. But it is why Grampa Jim stopped sitting to read us books.”

In the next picture, mom has Elizabeth in one arm, while she has me by her right arm, but her left hand. I don’t know why mom’s thumb moving from one side of her hand to the other didn’t bother me more in those days. It bothers me now. In the background is Grampa Jim trying to go into the fetal position from all the pain. The word balloon in my mouth is my complaint, “But, Mom! –That’s what grampas are for!” My mom has a startled look on her face, and this is what she told me, because she was remembering times with her grampa. I guess she didn’t realize how brutal Elizabeth and I were. I think all told, Elizabeth broke his nose, I cracked one of his ribs, and he had some kind of head injury; but I forget which one of us did that. Probably Elizabeth. My daughter said, “Why did you say that’s what Grampas are for!” I said, “That’s what I thought before I learned it takes months for a grampa’s cracked ribs to heal, and no grandkid wants to see his grampa whimper when you go to hug him.” My daughter said, “I like that. That sounds funny.” I said, “Maybe you should go and visit dad then.”

I am off to my Mexican vacation, sans rugrats. I think I will spend the whole time sequestered in my room working on my latest novel Breaking the Windjammer, since I have gotten no writing done ever since I started going over the photo albums. Thanks for agreeing to take over the kids and the photography coverage with my daughter, while I am gone, formerly little sis.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, I M pretty sure that Gramps has maintained sum residual fear of U and Liz ever since that lil "incident" all those yrs ago. Notice how he kinda winces whenev he C's U or her?

So, Mom's gonna pick up Merrie and Robin from school and daycare 2day, and then I'll B in charge of them until Mike an' Dee get back here Sunday. Poor Dee, it soundz like Mike's already planning on making this a "working" vacation. I guess Dee's gonna get v. acquainted w/the hotel bar staff.

Apes

Remembered Eavesdrop

Here's the next bit of Mike's remembrances:

April,

Formerly little sis. In today’s set of pictures I sought to teach my daughter one of the basic tenets of being a Patterson, which is: Until you have your kids with you, you are still a kid. This is something you will have to face as you get older, but hopefully you will not reach the point our dear sister Elizabeth has reached in being 26 years old and still a kid. I know mom thinks she would like to count Anthony Caine’s little Quebecoise girl as Elizabeth’s kid, once they finally get married. She is anxious to have an adult conversation with Elizabeth for once. I tried to explain this to my daughter, and she said, “Auntie Liz is still a kid? That must be why she hugged her dolly when she went to bed.”

To explain it more vividly, I showed my daughter this first picture of 4 pictures. In it mom has nestled a coffee cup to her elbow, while Gramma Marian is knitting with one knitting needle. The word balloon for mom says, “Mom, when I was here before Christmas, you spent a week lecturing me…” My daughter said, “What’s lecturing?” I said, “Lecturing is when someone tells someone else something they should be doing.” My daughter said, “A week! How could she spend a week doing that?” I said to my daughter, “You have to understand Gramma Marian was a very slow talker and she liked to repeat herself a lot and she never seemed to realize when a conversation was over.” My daughter said, “I thought you said she was great at everything.” I said, “She was great at lecturing too. Most people can’t lecture for more than an hour, much less a week.” My daughter said, “A week!! How did Gramma Elly survive?” I said, “She didn’t visit Gramma Marian very much.” My daughter said, “Smart.”

Then we looked at the next picture and mom decided to nestle her coffee cup in her hands. This time Gramma Marian was knitting with two knitting needles. The word balloon coming out of mom said, “This time, with the kids…our relationship is so different!” My daughter said, “Because she is knitting and not lecturing?” I said, “Exactly.” My daughter said, “Why do kids stop a lecture?” I said, “We’ll find out in the next picture.”

Sure enough, in the next picture, mom had put down the coffee cup and started playing with Gramma Marian’s knitting. Gramma Marian was back to one knitting needle again. The word balloon coming out of her mouth said, “Maybe that’s because alone—you’re my daughter…” My daughter said, “What is Gramma Elly doing?” I said, “I think she must be picking bugs out of Gramma Marian’s knitting.” My daughter said, “You don’t know about knitting, do you daddy?” I said, “And I never will, unless I write a book about it. Then I will be an expert.”

In the next picture mom was looking up at Gramma Marian, and she folded her arms across her knitting and her two knitting needles. The word balloon coming out of Gramma Marian said, “But with the kids---we’re both moms.” I said, “You see, daughter. This is the basic premise of being an adult Patterson: You must have kids and the kids must be with you.” My daughter said, “You mean if Gramma Elly didn’t have kids, then Gramma Marian could spank her or make her go to her room or not let her use the phone?” I said, “Exactly right. If you don’t have kids with you, you are just a kid yourself, and your parents can treat you just like you were a naughty little 5-year-old.” My daughter said, “Gramma Elly didn’t go to see Gramma Marian by herself, did she?” I said, “No, daughter. She didn’t. Did you ever wonder why it is that my mom hardly visits my Grandpa Jim in his apartment?” My daughter nodded. I said, “That’s the reason.” My daughter said, “Daddy. I thought it was because we don’t like old people.” I said, “No daughter. The ways of the Richards and Pattersons may seem harsh and cruel to some; but to others, it is a way of life filled with untold riches. Imagine if most people thought you had to visit a smelly, old man, who said bad words all the time, just because you were his only daughter and you lived in the same town he did. With the Patterson way, you can say you are avoiding visiting your father, because a visit gives him the right to treat you like a kid. And who wants that?” My daughter said, “Not me.” I said, “Exactly.”

More tomorrow, formerly little sis. I think I will talk about a fateful wrestling match between my sister and me and Grandpa Jim.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Well, I doubt Gramps has the physical strength to spank Mom, now, Mike. And with the aphasia, he can't lecture. I dunno, I think most ppl wd find Mom's xxcuse 4 staying away so much 2 B pretty lame!

Oh, ppl, guess what Mom just dumped on me this morning? Sumtyme tomorrow, Mike an' Dee R leaving 4 a vacation. They'll B gone till Sunday. Mom told them it was high time they started taking Mexico vacations, w/out their kids. And guess who's gonna B watching the kiddles while they R away? Me, that's who. Not only that, but Mom sez that it'll B MY job 2 go thru the foto albums w/Merrie. Mom AND Mike will B leaving me notes. Well, unless there's a sudden memo from Corbeil saying it's time 2 switch over 2 discussing Liz and Anthony, but I don't think we get 2 do that until @least Monday.

Apes

Olden-Days Beds Remembered

Sorry in advance 2 all of U who thot we were gonna have a Liz-Anthony week starting 2day. We R still in Mike's remembrances of Vancouvers past:

April,

Formerly little sis. There is something to be said for mattress comfort. That was the lesson I tried to give today to my little daughter as I showed her pictures of my trip to visit Grampa Jim and Gramma Marian in Vancouver back when I was her age.

My daughter said, “Aren’t you going to say something about what happened in these pictures?” I said, “Daughter, dear. You see that word balloon there in the first picture, where I am asking a question which takes up 5 lines of text?” My daughter said she did. I said, “Whenever the old pictures I am showing you have a really long word balloon in the very first picture, particularly if it’s a word balloon showing something I said, there is really no reason for me to add anything.” My daughter got on her knees and said, “Pray for long word balloons. Pray for long word balloons.” over and over until I told we had to look at the other pictures too.

In the first picture, Grampa Jim is showing off his pyjama-buttoning technique, which is a little odd when you consider the pyjamas I am wearing in the picture don’t have buttons. I suppose that is why he felt the need to shove his knee up into my stomach to get the leverage needed. When I examine the picture, I think I should have been looking at his twisted and malformed hands, but probably in those days, I thought all old people had twisted and malformed hands. So instead I asked my Grampa Jim, “Do I really get to sleep in the same bed mom slept in when she was little, Grampa?” My daughter said, “Why did you ask that?” I said, “Daughter, dear. When I was little, I thought my mother was really old, so it seemed incredible to me Grampa Jim would have a bed that old too, without it falling apart.” My daughter said, “Oh. It wasn’t?” I said, “No. Let’s look at the next picture for Grampa Jim’s answer.”

Sure enough in the next picture, I was in bed and Grampa Jim was pulling the sheets over me and the word balloon showed his answer, “Yep!—Your mom slept here, dreamed her, did her thinking here…” My daughter said, “He didn’t answer until you got all the way in bed.” I said, “Grampa Jim was like that. He was a hard man. If you want an answer to a question, first you have to do something for him. Most times, it was to hide his cigars in your suitcase, or forget the time you saw him with a blonde lady who wasn’t Gramma Marian; but this time it was to get into bed.” My daughter said, “So Gramma Elly did sleep there. Why did Grampa Jim say she had dreams and did thinking there too?” My very astute daughter had once again picked up on a subtle message, and I really did not want to get into mom’s story about the occasions which necessitated her being locked in her room for days at a time, so I said, “My mom was good at multitasking. That means she could do 3 things at once---Sleep, dream and think. Isn’t that impressive?” My daughter said, “Not really, daddy.” I said, “Let’s look at the next picture.”

As I showed my daughter the next picture, she immediately shrieked, “Grampa Jim. His arm stretched to turn off that light. Is he like Mr. Fantastic in the Fantastic Four?” I said, “No, daughter. His arm isn’t nearly as stretchy as Mr. Fantastic; but it was still very impressive. Notice the way I say, 'Sigh'.” My daughter said, “Was he your hero?” I said, “No. I liked to keep my light on at night.”

Finally, in the last picture, there was Grampa Jim with a quizzical look on this face, as I led into my moral of the story ---the importance of a comfortable mattress. I said, “…For an olden days bed, it feels pretty good!” My daughter said, “Can I get a new mattress on my bed? It’s the old bed Gramma Elly left us. For an olden days bed, it feels pretty bad!” I said, “Daughter. I have spent more than 2 weeks going through old photo albums to keep you entertained. Is that something a dad with enough money to buy a new bed would do?” My daughter said, “Sigh. No, daddy.” I said, “Exactly.”

More photo albums tomorrow, formerly little sis. Maybe we will discuss important things like measuring the quality of olden days toothbrushes or olden days toilets.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Wow, Merrie's pretty sharp w/her questions and observations. R U sure U're really her father? Oh, never mind. I don't blame her 4 wanting a new bed, tho I guess she hasta w8 until she's old enuf 2 make sum $ 4 herself by babysitting. So she can save up and buy 1 on her own.

Apes

Dog Days of Mom and Dad

Did U all C Mike's parting shot 2 me last nite, in the comments? "Although, knowing how your writing as been lately, you will probably find something even duller, like dogs scratching themselves as a topic. It's what comes from associating with Amazon River parasitic water life." That is so unfair! Mike wrote that AFTER he'd been on the other end of a fone call from Mom, screeching abt fleas and dogs and Dad. So he KNEW that wd B my topic 2day. And who is he 2 criticize my writing, considering his cruise thru memory lane.

So, yeah, this is abt the dogs. Mom suddenly noticed that they were scratching a lot, so she gave 'em baths and put flea collars on them. Then, shortly after that, Mom noticed that DAD was scratching like crazy, while playing with his trains. Mom and Dad didn't come rite out and say that Dad got a flea bath, too, but I did notice he's got a flea collar around his left ankle.

Apes

Luggage Follies in Flashback Vancouver

Here is the next bit of what Mike told Merrie as they looked @ pix and talked abt the trip 2 Vancouver when Mike had just finished kindergarten and Liz was a baby:

April,

Formerly little sis. I was quite relieved today to discover that mom did not hand me new pictures, and I was actually able to find the photos of my trip (mom wanted me to talk about yesterday) with mom and Elizabeth to see Grandma Marian and Grandpa Jim in Vancouver. I showed them to my daughter and said, “Finally, we arrived.” My daughter said, “That’s great grandmother Marian and Grampa Jim with their arms out.” I said, “That’s right, and mom has her arms up and she is saying ‘Mom! Dad!” My daughter said, “How could she see?” I said, “What do you mean?” She said, “Gramma Elly. Her hair is over her eyes. How could she see?” I said, “Obvious she can’t. She is waving over to the right, when Grandpa Jim and Grandma Marian are right in front of her.”

Then we looked at the next picture. Grandma Marian had my head in her enormous hand. I remember she had really big hands for a woman. Her word balloon to me in the picture said, “Now, Michael, you take this bag, I’ll take your suitcase…” I remember Grandma Marian loved to play that luggage-switching game. I don’t think I ever got that suitcase back, but I might be wrong. My daughter said, “Oh no! Daddy! Gramma Elly can’t see and she’s kissing Grandpa Jim on the mouth! Eww!” I said, “It may come as a surprise to you daughter, but there was a time when your Grandma Elly was affectionate.” My daughter said, “She kissed a lot of people?” I said, “Yes.” Then my daughter said, “What’s Grandpa Jim putting in Gramma Elly’s bag?” I said, “What? What do you mean?” Then I looked at the picture closely, and sure enough, there was Grandpa Jim’s hand reaching into mom’s bag on the side. I knew what it must be, but who wants to get into a discussion with a daughter about the more criminal aspects of Grandpa Jim and mom. So I said, “No, daughter. That’s what we call an optical illusion.” My daughter said, “What’s that?” I said, “It just looks like Grandpa Jim slipping something into mom’s bag, but his hand is really reaching out to pick up Elizabeth. Let’s look at the next picture.” I certainly didn’t want her to keep looking at that one.

In the next picture, I have a small bag, Grandma Marian has my bag. In her word balloon she said, “You take Elly’s luggage, dear---and we’ll leave her to pick up the baby’s things.” Grandpa Jim had Elizabeth in one arm and mom’s luggage in the other. I remember Grandpa Jim was Elizabeth’s favourite because his cigarette breath was almost as bad as her Lizardbreath. Mom picked up an extra suitcase off the luggage carousel, which you could barely see in the picture. My daughter said, “Why didn’t Gramma Elly give great grandmother Marian a kiss?” I said, “Didn’t she?” My daughter said, “No.” I looked back at the pictures and I said, “Now daughter, do you see anyone giving Grandma Marian a kiss?” My daughter said, “No.” I said, “There you see, it’s all equal. It doesn’t matter if mom doesn’t kiss Grandma Marian, if no one kisses Grandma Marian.” My daughter said, “Poor great grandmother Marian.”

I decided to show my daughter the next picture. It was of mom, holding the stroller, her pocketbook, the suitcase, a bag full of stuffed animals, and a large garbage bag of things. My daughter, “Gramma Elly was a cowgirl!” I said, “A cowgirl. What do you mean?” My daughter said, “Her legs are like a horse rider.” I looked and sure enough, there was mom all bow-legged and looking disoriented. I said to my daughter, “I think the joke is that Grandma Marian and Grandpa Jim thought there wouldn’t be as much baby stuff as there was, and mom didn't tell them.” My daughter said, “Who took the cases to the airport?” I said, “We all did.” My daughter said, “Then Grandma Elly knows how many suitcases she has.” I said, “Probably, but her short term memory stinks.” My daughter said, “What?” I said, “She might have forgotten how many bags she had.” My daughter said, “Then how did she know what bags are hers?” I said, “From the labels.” My daughter said, “That’s silly.” I said, “I know and that’s why it’s funny. Sometimes silly things are funny.” My daughter said, “Maybe. So did Gramma Elly get on a horse to carry the bags?” I said, “No. Grandpa Jim came back and helped her, and she didn’t ride him.” At least I think she didn’t.

Well, formerly little sis, tomorrow is my break from looking at photo albums, so I hope you have something exciting to write about. Something more exciting than getting luggage in an airport would be quite nice.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, I asked Mom Y she had me Photoshop those fakey pics of her with U and Liz on the plane 2 Vancouver when we had perfectly gd real pics on the plane. She rolled her eyes and sed the originals did not lend themselves to the current storytelling theme, and if I had NE sense of narrative "like yr author brother Michael does," I wdn't even ask.

Yeah, I really hope I'll have sumthing more interesting 2 tell U all abt 2morrow, peeps!

Apes

Here's another reminisce-o-gram from Mike:

April,

Formerly little sis. I know I promised you and your Blog fan base I would talk more about Gramma Marian and what a “great” grandmother she was; but I got a last minute input from mom. She handed me 4 pictures and said, “Talk about these instead, Mike.” I said, “Are these pictures I have ever seen before?” Mom just gave me an evil look.

I showed my daughter the first picture and the script said, “One time, my mom took Elizabeth and me all the way to Vancouver to see Grandpa Jim and Grandma Marian.” My daughter said, “You said Gramma and Grampa before.” I said, “I know. But I have Grandpa and Grandma in this script from mom. Now, look at this picture.” In the picture was mom with the scarf she always seemed to wear around Grandma Marian. She had a suitcase under her left arm and with her right arm, she was pushing a stroller with Elizabeth in it. Mom was doing a pretty good job with that pushing, because when I try to push a stroller with only one hand, the stroller usually goes off to one side. She must not have been going too fast, because there I was hovering in front of her. The word balloon for the picture said, “Michael. I want you to get on the same plane we’re on.” My daughter said, “You could get on a different plane than your mom?” I said, “No. When I tried it, it didn’t work.”

My daughter stared at me blankly, so I showed her the next picture and read the script, “It was a long trip. I remember, because Elizabeth cried all the way.” In the picture was me wearing my Patterson man sweater/shirt combination with my fingers in my ears, mom holding Elizabeth by her shoulder and her stomach in the next seat, and a grumpy-looking man in the seat next to mom. My daughter said, “Look, Daddy. That guy in the picture next to Gramma Elly doesn’t have any arms.” I said, “No wonder he looks so grumpy.” My daughter said, “I think he’s grumpy ‘cause Auntie Liz was crying. Look what the word balloon says.” And sure enough, the word balloon said, “She must have a problem with her ears!” That’s some pretty good crying, if you hurt not only the ears of the people around you, but your own ears too.

I showed my daughter the next picture and read the script which said, “Mom was really miserable, which made me kind of happy…” In the picture, I was reading with my eyes closed, and mom held Elizabeth over her shoulder to point her crying noises at the seat behind us. It looked like that trick worked, since there was a little explosion back there. My daughter said, “You were mean when you were little, Daddy.” I said, “Not mean. There are lots of things you can do with a crying baby on a plane; but mom prefers to be miserable and suffer. It’s only when she is miserable and suffering, that mom is truly happy.” My daughter said, “And when she eats.” I said, “And when she eats. That’s right, too. So, if mom is really miserable, she is really happy, which means I should be happy too. Doesn’t that make sense?” My daughter said, “No, Daddy.” I said, “Let’s look at the next picture.”

The last picture was a picture of me with just a pupil for an eye and no sclera, which is how I looked in those days. I was still reading, only now I had a smile on my face. My mom looked over at me, and my little sister “Blurbp”ed up the green and red thing she had eaten for lunch. I read the script which said, “’Cause next to my baby sister, I was beginning to look like an angel!” My daughter said, “You don’t look like an angel in the picture. You look like the devil.” I said, “Daughter. You have to understand mom to understand why I looked like an angel. Now, what am I doing in the picture?” My daughter said, “Reading a book.” I said, “And how does my mom feel about reading books?” My daughter said, “She talks about reading books to us all the time, but she never does.” I said, “I mean, how does my mom feel about people who read books?” My daughter said, “They are like God.” I said, “And how would an angel look to my mom?” My daughter said, “Like a person using his wings to read a book.” I said, “Exactly.” My daughter said, “You still look like a devil.” I said, “What’s important is I looked like an angel to mom and I still do, even to this very day.”

More tomorrow, formerly little sis. Perhaps I will speak of Grandma Marian. It all depends on what mom hands me.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Y'know, Mike, I was surprised when Mom got me making fake old pics in Photoshop again, since I figured there were enuf real old pics 4 U 2 use 4 the reminiscing. Especially since I know I've seen pics of U, Liz, and Mom visiting Grandpa Jim and Grandma Marian during this early trip. There R even pics of Dad dropping U off @ the airport and pics on the plane. I dunno Y Mom thinx we need 2 supplement them. Also, there R pix from a l8er trip when U were older and Dad went w/U 2, and U all also went 2 Winnipeg and saw the other grandparents. So, Y'd U make it sound like this trip U just told Merrie abt was the ONLY time U ever went 2 visit Mom's parents? Or is it one of those tricky choice-of-words things. "One time, my mom took Elizabeth and me," as opposed to other times, when Mom AND Dad took U?

NEway, it sounds like Merrie has a pretty clear idea of what kind of a kid U were!

Apes

He could explain what "great-grandmother" means

Mike wrote in 2 tell what happed shortly after Merrie threw her own Super Teddy in2 the plant:

April,

Formerly little sis. After my lovely Deanna realized Super Teddy had not done permanent damage to her indoor plant, she did something which she has not done in many years, i.e. displayed a sense of curiosity. Deanna has had her moments of being curious in the past, but since she has had children it is like they sucked all the curious bones in her body out with their vigorous breast-feeding. Deanna informs me that bones are not actually the source of breast milk, so I had to discard that theory.

Regardless of the reason for the curiosity, I was delighted and surprised that my lovely Deanna asked me the question, “What have you two been up to?” I put my hands in my pockets and sheepishly followed my daughter into the kitchen where she showed her the photo albums. I said, “We were going through my mom’s photo albums.” Naturally, this is not truly an explanation for why my daughter produced a duplicate of my Super Teddy and felt the need to throw him into Deanna’s indoor plant; but curiosity occurs so infrequently with my wife, I thought it was best not to discourage it with mundane things like a logical progression of thought.

I sat down and put my daughter in my lap so she could see the photo album better, as Deanna pulled it over to the other side of the table. I said, “Merrie was asking about Grampa Jim. She didn’t recognize him.” I know I had tried to avoid embarrassing my daughter with that fact before, but I felt Deanna needed to know, since she is the mother. Deanna said, “He looks so young in this picture…and so does Marian.” It did occur to me that perhaps I need to give my lovely Deanna a little lecture on the progression of time, so she would know that in every picture where Grampa Jim looks young, everyone else in the picture will look younger too. The understanding of how time works is something most people may take for granted, but when you are a Patterson, it can sometimes be a very tricky thing. All I have to do is think about how you looked just before your 16th birthday and how you looked on your 16th birthday, to illustrate my point about unusual Pattersonian time passage. Once again, I opted not to pursue this line of thought with my wife. I thought it would be good to keep that curiosity thing going.

Well, Deanna turned into a silhouette, so her lights were essentially out, and I decided to talk to my non-silhouetted daughter instead. I said, “I’m sorry you never got to meet your great-grandmother, Meredith.” After I said that, I realized it was a little awkward to say. After all, Gramma Marian died in 1991, and in 1991 I was only 15 years old, and it would have been strange to have a daughter when I was still in senior secondary school, just so I could introduce her to Gramma Marian. Fortunately for me, my daughter saved the day by making a joke out of the word “great.” She said, “What made her great, daddy?” At least I think she was making a joke. We do call Grampa Jim “Grampa Jim” around her, and not “great grandfather Jim”, so she might not understand how the word “great” fits in. However, I prefer to think she was making a joke, since it gave me a fine opportunity to look wide-eyed into the open air and say, “Everything.”

I think you would agree, formerly little sis, that “everything” made Gramma Marian great. For example, her extraordinary Tupperware collection. It’s not everyone who saves every single piece of Tupperware they ever bought in their entire life. That makes someone “great,” don’t you agree? You know this to be true, because you met Gramma Marian. However, my daughter never did, so I decided to start showing my daughter some Gramma Marian pictures and I will probably tell you about them tomorrow and I expect I will be using the word “great” as often as I possibly can, in order to carry on my new theme for photos “Marian put the ‘great’ in great gramma.”

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, I h8 2 contradict U, but... W8, who R we kidding, I luv 2 contradict U, but what I was going 2 pt ot is that Grandma Marian died in 1998, when U were 22. But U and Dee were just d8ing @ the time, not married or even engaged, so it wdn't have made sense 4 U 2 have had Merrie yet, eh?

I think the comedian Laura Kightlinger did the joke better: "My grandmother asked me, 'When am I going to be a great-grandmother?' And I told her, 'When U do sumthing outstanding!'" But that's OK, Merrie's not quite 5, and Laura Kightlinger has had yrs and yrs 2 work on her stand-up material.

Apes

Super Teddy/Stupor Mike

Mike kinda got back 2 the present tense 2 tell abt Merrie's reaction 2 Mike's "Super Teddy" story:

April,

Formerly little sis. After showing my daughter the video I rented of the Superman movie, she finally understood Super Teddy. She looked at the pictures of me and Super Teddy in the photo album and she said, “You had a SUPER TEDDY?” I think perhaps she thought I had a teddy bear that was an official toy from the Superman movie, which might be an expensive collectors item now. Considering all the pictures in the photo album showed Super Teddy flying, she might have thought he could really fly like Superman. So I explained it to her, “Well, not a real Super Teddy. He was just a Teddy Bear with a napkin tied around his neck.” It turned out my daughter had been setting me up, because almost out of nowhere she pulled out a teddy bear with a napkin tied around his neck.

She said, “Like this?” I responded, “Exactly!” However, it wasn’t exactly the same. My Super Teddy was a larger teddy bear which had a greater striking force when hurled, and also had longer ears and face not unlike a dog. My daughter’s teddy had short ears and looked much more like the traditional teddy bear, as if someone, let’s say, was an inexperienced artist and had no idea what a teddy bear looked like, versus a more experienced artist who had a little plastic figurine of a teddy bear they could copy.

I was on the verge of saying, “And I’d toss him through the air yelling…It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s Super Teddy!” as you may remember me saying just yesterday when I was describing the picture in the photo album. However, at this point, I got a phone call saying the “It’s a bird. It’s a plane.” stuff is copyrighted, and I needed to come up with a different catch phrase. So instead, I said,
“And I’d toss him through the air yelling…Hiiyaaaaa Kowabunga Super Teddyyy!!”

Then my daughter said, “Hi-yaahhh Kowabunga Super Teddyyy!” and she swung her arm in an arc that mysteriously caused her teddy to go from behind her head to straight ahead from her. It was quite amazing. I was about comment about how she needed to say, “Hiiyaaaaa” instead of “Hi-yaahhh”, unless of course she was separating “Hiiyaaaaa” across two lines and needed the hyphen, when there was a silent crashing noise from the other room.

My daughter and I went to see what made the silent crashing noise, and it turned out that my daughter’s teddy had landed on my lovely Deanna’s new giant-sized indoor plant. The plant lost a few leaves and looked relatively uninjured, so when it comes right down to it, it was a fairly unsuccessful Super Teddy kind of landing. More astounding than the plant damage was my lovely wife Deanna who said, “Is this what you call a good example?” My daughter and I were both distracted by Deanna’s misshapen right hand with only two very long fingers, aside from her thumb, which is technically not a finger. Normally I would come up with a witty comeback to a question like that from my wife, but those two fingers were freaking me out and all I could think was, “No…but I’d call it a great toss!” And it was a great toss, even though it was not a good example of how much damage and destruction a true Super Teddy can cause.

I'm sure that given enough time, my daughter will achieve Super Teddy greatness. I think I need to lock up all my breakables now.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, don't B 2 surprised if U get a fone call from the ppl behind Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and/or the ppl behind The Simpsons--asking U 2 cease an' desist using "kowabunga."

Howard, I got yr message abt the "babysitting emergency" that U and Bea have 2nite. I will B there @ 6 2nite.

Apes

Enter Super Teddy

Mike has sum more 2 share on his photo-reminiscences w/Merrie. Remembrances of Things Mike, eh?

April,

Formerly little sis. Today I decided to share one of my most favourite memories with my daughter. Using the old photo album, I found pictures of me and my stuffed teddy bear, I called Super Teddy, and whom mom called, “the bear from hell.”

Because my theme this week is telling the story about how I got along with my little sister Elizabeth, first I said, “Elizabeth seemed to get all of the attention—but I had something she didn’t have…” The theme was a little harder today, since none of the picture had me with my sister, but I made an exception for Super Teddy.

The first picture was of mom washing dishes in the kitchen with me clearly saying off to the side of the picture, “It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s…” Then I asked my daughter, “What you do you is going to happen next after I said those words?” My daughter said, “You get glasses because you can’t tell a bird from a plane?” I said, “No. Those are classic words for a very special situation.” My daughter said, “I’ve seen Gramma Elly wash dishes before. She has a dishwasher, and she still washes dishes.” I said, “No, not the dishwasher or washing dishes. Think hard.” My daughter said, “Oh, Gramma Elly has pots on the counter and not in the shelf.” I said, “No. The words are for Superman.” My daughter said, “What do you mean?” I said, “The people said, ‘It’s a bird! It’s a plane!’ and then they said, ‘It’s Superman.’” My daughter said, “What?” I said, “Superman could fly.” My daughter said, “Oh! He’s a man who looks like a bird or a plane, and that’s why he can fly?” I said, “No. He looks like a man.” My daughter said, “I don’t get it.” I said, “It’s a catch phrase.” My daughter looked at me blankly. I said, “Let’s look at the next picture.”

The second picture was of something (Super Teddy) going over mom’s head, into the water in the sink and it knocked water and the word “Splosh” out of the sink on mom. I told my daughter, “Do you understand what happened in this picture?” My daughter said, “The water splashed the wrong way.” I said, “No. The water splashed on mom.” My daughter said, “Daddy. The thing goes over Gramma from behind her, so the water should be pushed the same way as the thing was going.” I said, “No. The water splashed on mom.” My daughter said, “Can I see the next picture?”

The third picture was of mom holding up Super Teddy by the ear, looking kind of exasperated that her face and her shirt were wet, and her face was kind of melting, but I think that was just makeup. I was right behind her and I said, “Super Teddy…” I said to my daughter, “You see. That was funny because my bear was flying like Superman and landed in the dishwater and got mom all wet.” My daughter said, “Why are you showing me pictures of you when you were mean?” I said, “Not mean! This is a great joke. You are just too little to understand Superman.” My daughter said, “Is it like when you told me The Three Stooges were funny?” I said, “No. Superman can fly. The Three Stooges couldn’t fly, at least not all the time.” After that, I had to go and rent a Superman movie, so my daughter could understand about Superman. I don’t know why my daughter is unaware of the pop culture icons I knew back when I was her age.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Hee. Merrie wants 2 know Y U're telling stories abt U being mean. I knew liked that girl!

Unk Danny, thanks 4 yr tips abt the courses I need 2 take 2 get in2 pre-vet @ U Winnipeg. I will make sure I get the pre-calc and the physics in. I'm already taking chem.

Apes

More Rehashing and School Stuff

More reminiscing from Mike:

April,

Formerly little sis. Mom suggested that I make a theme of my remembrances via the old photo album with my daughter and this week’s theme should be me and my sister. I found a few pictures which were about me and Elizabeth just after Hallowe’en, and decided I would use those. First I said, “I didn’t like sharing with a little sister.” Then I showed my daughter the first picture.

The first picture was of me, leaning comfortably against the old green and black-striped chesterfield having a great time eating Hallowe’en candy with “Munch, Glut, Chew, Eat, Slupp” sounds accompanying my vigourous eating, along with spittle flying everywhere and large stains around my mouth. My daughter said, “Daddy! You are messy eating like Gramma Elly.” I said, “Yes, but my sound effects are only in black, whereas Gramma Elly’s have their own speech balloon.” My daughter had to admit Gramma Elly was an even sloppier eater today than I was, with Hallowe’en candy at age 5. My sister didn’t care for my sloppiness and in the same picture, she sounded the alarm of “Uh Uh!”

That’s not exactly a crying alarm kind of sound you would think would alert a parent and yet in the next picture I showed my daughter, there was mom clearly saying, “Michael! I said you were to share that candy with Elizabeth!!” I looked up at her with innocent drool dripping off my face, and Elizabeth continued to gesticulate in my direction. My daughter said, “Daddy. You don’t give candy to babies. It makes them sick.” I would have liked to have told my daughter how the candy did make Elizabeth sick. I would like to have told my daughter this was the reason I had chosen not to share my candy with Elizabeth, but the very next picture betrayed my true sentiments.

In it, I held the Hallowe’en candy bag close to my bosom and said, “I am sharing! I’m givin’ her the wrappers!” My daughter said, “Daddy! Wrappers! You’re funny. I gave Robin dirt to eat. You gave Auntie Liz wrappers. Wrappers are good.” I began to think a thought about letting my daughter know that feeding her younger brother candy wrappers was not a good idea, but then again showing her a photo album of me giving my younger sister candy wrappers was also not a good idea, and it would seem a little hypocritical of me to tell her to do one thing after I just showed I did the other. Since hypocrisy is one the ways of being a Patterson, I opted to not tell my daughter anything, and instead concentrated on how much I looked like our family friend Linus van Pelt, in these old pictures.

Love,
Michael Patterson

I have a bad feeling that lots of those old pics of U will show U b-ing a bad xxample, Mike. But yr rite, U did look a whole lot like Linus in early fotos.

Sum ppl have e-mailed me and asked what I'm studying in school this semester. Well, for English, I've got Canadian lit this semester. Science is chem, math is functions, and I have a music elective. It'll B cube cuz we've got theory and analysis, but also we get 2 create our own music. Tho I'm not 2 jazzed abt the "classical and baroque" stuff we'll hafta do. I did learn sum of that kinda thing w/Mr. Bergan, so it shdn't B 2 bad. All of my classes R, like, the university-prep type. The other options are "college" and "workplace." In case U R curious abt grade-11 stuff 4 Ontario, U can check out sum info @ the Ministry of Ed page.

Mike an' Co B-ing Weird in the Woods

Mike took a break from his foto-album reminiscing 2 take a walk in the woods w/Dee and the kids, like I was saying in the comments yesterday. Here's what he had 2 say abt this:

April,

[Dear formerly little sis.] There are times in my life when I have wished that I was able to lower myself to take a gift from my mother-in-law, Mira Sobinski, to get new baby equipment, if for no other reason than to get her to be quiet about it. For example, we have a baby back carrier I use to carry my son when the whole family goes on long walks to see the changing colours of the leaves. My mother-in-law took a look at our baby back carrier, which is a perfectly fine carrier. In fact, when Gordon Mayes used it to carry his son, it was the top-of-the-line model. But you know my mother-in-law. She will pick, pick, pick at things, and then say something idiotic like, “You are putting your child at risk, not using a new baby back carrier. I will buy one for you.” That would be wasted money. Of course, we had to refuse.

The carrier we have is perfectly nice. But if you were to listen to my mother-in-law talk about how it has no harness straps, so my son isn’t harnessed into the carrier so he could fall out; or how it doesn’t have a strap around my chest so if my arms let go of the shoulder straps he could fall out; or how the seat was set in such a fashion that my son would probably spend most of his ride kicking me in the side; or how the metal frame is just a single metal bar twisted like a question mark at both ends and a proper frame would have a metal bar running both across my back and my son’s back and not bear all the weight of my son into a bar pointed directly into my back. Blah. Blah. Blah. How my mother-in-law can talk about things which are completely unimportant for a good back carrier. If it was good enough for Gordon Mayes, then it’s good enough for me.

Yesterday was a perfectly beautiful day. It was as if the person who colours our landscape usually with pink and purple silhouettes, decided to come out of her slumber and do her job for a change. I decided to wear my usual Patterson man shirt and sweater ensemble; while my lovely wife Deanna opted to wear sunglasses, which she kept taking on and off for some reason, and she walked the entire walk with her hands in her pockets. She said her hands were cold. My daughter was wearing pink and spent most of the first part our walk through nature carrying a maple leaf and saying, “Look! I’m Canadian.”

The leaves were so colourful, I believe they actually attracted the attention of my son. As for me, there were moments when they were so beautiful; I simply had to close my eyes. Of course part of that eye-closing was from the pain of my son digging his feet into my sides. I had to grit my teeth and take it. After all, I am a father and fathers are not allowed to cry when they are doing fatherly kinds of things. It did distract me though. My daughter said she saw a squirrel on the side of a tree, which she said was bigger than her head, but I doubted that. Squirrels only get that big when our friend Mark Trail sees them.

We were going along pretty well, when I suddenly snapped. My lovely wife Deanna said, “Don’t snap at me like that, Michael.” I tried to say I wasn’t the one who snapped, but it certainly did sound like that “Snap!!” came out of my head. Fortunately the rest of the walk, there wasn’t any more snapping. However, I could tell my wife was upset, since her body width suddenly exceeded mine, and I got the feeling it would be awhile before my more kind and gentle, feminine wife would reappear again. My daughter jogged along with her arms curiously kept close to her sides, and my son wiggled and dug his feet into my hips again and again as he reached and pulled and reached and pulled. I think he must have been watching my lovely wife Deanna’s exercise video and decided to do an imitation of it, while we were walking.

After several minutes of this, my head began to bow low from the pain of the back carrier. My daughter sensed my distress and took my hand. She said, “You can make it daddy!”

We got back to our house and I felt things were not right. The front door had its usual half-circle of glass, but the handle was different and the wall where we hang our coats had bent and moved closer to the door. It was quite disconcerting. Deanna had her sunglasses off and she lifted my son off my back, while my daughter slunk over to the corner and took off her pink coat in an awkward fashion, which attracted my attention.

When my lovely Deanna got my son onto the floor she noticed a few things coming out of his pants which were not the usual things which come out of his pants. I can tell you for once I was relieved when my gobsmacked wife said, “Look what’s coming out of your son’s pants!” to find it was only leaves this time. Of course the reason my son gave for putting leaves down his pants instead of in his coat pockets did involve his observation of me and some rolled-up socks, so I can’t say I am wholly blameless in his interesting storage techniques. I did learn I will need to keep the door on our bedroom locked when I am dressing. All of these things were quickly forgotten when we discovered my daughter had put a very large squirrel in her coat.

As it turns out, she was exactly right about how large that squirrel was. Fortunately for us, we called up our friend Mark Trail, and he was able to find a place for this squirrel, which my daughter named “Biggie”. As Mark drove away with Biggie, my daughter cried the bitter tears of one who has a lost a friend she grabbed off a tree during an afternoon walk through the woods. My son cried too, when we put his leaves outside. And of course, Deanna cried because everyone else was crying. It was an emotional day.

After today, I look forward to staring at more photo albums pictures with my daughter. They may be dull, but they don’t chatter at you and bite.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, I'll bet we cd get Mom 2 come up w/the idea of buying U a new kid-pack. Like, I cd leave an article abt baby-pack safety in a place where Mom wd find it, then she'd go out and buy one 4 U as a surprise, and then U'd have no choice but 2 accept it graciously an' praise Mom 4 her wisdom. What do U think? Shd I try it?

Ger wants us 2 start auditioning new bass players, but I'm still holding out sum hope that Dunc's fam will change their minds an' come back 2 Mboro from Barbados. But NEway, he, Eva, Luis and I R gonna meet @ Ger's place 2 jam.

Apes

Early Days of Mike and Liz

Mike got 2 the part of his reminiscing where Liz was a baby and he was her annoying older bro:

April,

[Formerly little sis.] I continued to tell my daughter about my life with my sister Elizabeth. This time I had pictures in the photo album I actually remembered instead all those pictures from the rest of this week. I told my daughter, “At first, I was really jealous of my little sister. I wanted everything she had.” Then I showed my daughter a picture of Elizabeth in footy pyjamas, leaning back on a striped blanket and drinking a bottle by herself, with her legs in the air and I was doing the same. Then I kicked my legs in the air the same as Elizabeth. Then I lay on my stomach and drooled just like Elizabeth. Then Elizabeth rolled onto her back and did her business in her diaper. I stopped imitating her after that. The picture of me showed me on my knees with my hands between my thighs saying, “Y’know, ‘lizabeth…You don’t have such a great life after all…” I told my daughter, ”This was a great revelation for me. I realized that no matter how much attention Elizabeth got that I didn’t get because she was little and cute, it was still better to not have to poop your pants and wait for someone to come and clean it up.”

My daughter said, “Well, duh, Daddy. Where did that dolly with the pig-tails go?” I said, “I don’t know. Maybe we sold her in a yard sale.” My daughter said, “No, Daddy. I mean in the pictures. The dolly looks like she is crawling off the blanket. Is it one of those dollies that can walk by itself?” I said, “I don’t think so. You’re right. The dolly does go off the blanket by itself. That is weird.” Of course I had to play ignorant for my sharp-eyed daughter. I think she would be a little disturbed, if she heard the real story about the dolly and what it took to finally destroy her so she wouldn’t harm anyone ever again. I get the shivers just thinking about that nightmare dolly.

It’s been a rough week of looking at pictures with my daughter. Mom says I can take a break tomorrow, but I will probably be back at it on Monday.

Love,
Michael Patterson

U know, I can't help wondering Y Mom doesn't do sum of this foto-reminiscing w/Merrie if she thinks it so important. Or even w/me. There's lots of stuff I've never been told abt from B4 I was born.

Hey, Mike, did Mom ever end up calling U last nite? I had a v. gd all-night study session w/Ger, and I got back here while Mom and Dad were still asleep, so I don't think NE1 noticed.

Apes

P.S. Dunc, R U sure U can't ever move back 2 Mboro? Ger's talking abt auditioning new bass players, but it wdn't B same w/out U. If we changed bass players, I think mite need 2 call the band 4Nevah and Eva.

And we get 2 pregnancy #2

So, Mike had sum more abt his reminiscing session w/Merrie:

April,

Formerly little sis. As you may recollect, I had been going through the photo album mom made up for me to tell my daughter about mom and dad’s romance. Finally, we got to the point where I was born, and I had the chance to talk about things I actually remembered, instead of having to follow mom’s bizarre script of what happened.

I looked wistfully outward, and I could tell my daughter was getting sleepy again, because she had to support her head on her hand. I said, “For a while, we lived in the apartment in Toronto. Then, dad got a job with another dentist in Milborough, and we moved here.” My daughter said, “You didn’t tell about what Grampa John did when Gramma Elly told him her surprise about you.” I said, “I wasn’t there at the time, but speaking as one who has been through that kind of experience I am sure Grampa John felt like Gramma Elly betrayed him on the most basic of levels and realized he would never be able to fully trust her again.” My daughter said, “Doesn’t Grampa John like surprises?” I said, “No. Not really.”

My daughter said, “Was Grampa John still in school when you came?” I said, “No. He was out of school and working for a dentist outside of Toronto. That’s when we lived in that apartment.” My daughter said, “You leave out a lot of stuff, dad.” I said, “I’m on a schedule. I have to take the story all the way to Lizzie being 3 years-old by Saturday.” My daughter said, “Why?” I said, “Sometimes, things have to be done in a week, even though they would be much better if they were done over a few weeks.”

Then my daughter said, “Can I go outside?” I said, “As long as you don’t mind me following you.” My daughter went outside and hid under a bush. It was a little difficult to get under the bush with her, but I managed. While we were both in the bushes I said, “When that dentist retired, dad bought his practice, and eventually they were able to buy this house on Sharon Park Drive.” My daughter said, “What does ‘bought his practice’ mean?” I said, “He gave him a lot of money, so all his tooth equipment would belong to him.” My daughter said, “No. Practice. Isn’t the word ‘practise’?” I said, “Oh right. Practise. Dad bought the other dentist’s practise.” My daughter said, “You mean like Grampa John and Dr. Callahan? Auntie April calls him a morsel.” I said, “Sort of. Except in dad’s case, the other doctor took the money and actually left and stopped working there. If you read our family monthly letters, you might think dad sold his practice, I mean practise, to Dr. Callahan, but in reality, I don’t think dad will ever truly sell.” My daughter said, “You mean like Gramma Elly and the book store?” I said, “Exactly. Just like mom and the bookstore.”

Then I got a few bush branches sticking in tender parts on my body and I said, “Can we go back in the house now?” My daughter said, “OK.” When we got back in I said to my daughter, “This next part I will tell you with my eyes crossed.” I said, “Elizabeth was born after we moved here. I remember when my mom was pregnant.” My daughter laughed and said, “You crossed your eyes talking about Auntie Liz. Auntie April says I should call her Auntie Liz, and not Auntie Elizabeth.” I said, “Well she’s not married and she doesn’t have a baby yet, so Auntie Liz is still good.” My daughter said, “You crossed your eyes again.” I said, “I did? Well Auntie Liz just makes my eyes cross.” My daughter said, “Mine too. Her breath stinks.” I said, “That’s why I call her Lizardbreath. I think I am supposed to tell that joke tomorrow.” My daughter said, “Do you have pictures?”

I opened up the photo album and sure enough there was a picture of mom, looking like I remembered her, with her hair down, and her nose small, and her hands across her belly like she was pregnant. Then there was little me and I had a word balloon saying, “Honest? You have a baby in your tummy?!” My daughter said, “Gramma Elly was pretty. Why was she so ugly in the other pictures?” I said, “That’s a very good question.” My daughter said, “This next picture is funny, daddy. Did you really look down Gramma Elly’s mouth to see if you could see the baby?” I said, “I sure did.” My daughter said, “Did you see the baby?” I said, “I couldn’t see her, but I could smell her.” My daughter said, “Eww! Daddy. I like these pictures. I hope you have a lot more like these pictures and not like those bad pictures you showed me before.” I said to my daughter, “I hope so too. I really hope so.”

Love,
Michael Patterson

I agree, Mike, those pix of Mom b-ing preg w/Liz and U trying 2 C the "baby in [her] tummy" R much better than those bad ones Mom made me Photoshop from current pix w/the age-regression software. I hope Mom doesn't force me 2 do NE more ugly Photoshopping.

U were v. little when U tried 2 C fetal Liz that way. But U were 14 when Mom was preg w/me. How come U did the same thing 2 try an' C me?

Apes