April's Real Blog

Friday, September 07, 2007

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

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4 Comments:

  • At 9:52 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. In response to your question: How come you did the same thing to try and see me? I could comment on the phrasing of your question. I could give you the answer that the life of a Patterson is all about repetition, which would be a perfectly valid answer, since you yourself have often repeated the same thing over and over again without seeming to have learned it the first time. But to tell you that again would be repetitious.

    The real answer in your case, was to see if I could detect the same fearsome stench of breath from unborn you, I remembered smelling from the unborn Elizabeth. I am pleased to report, I did not. It was a relief, not only to me, but everyone in the house who still had the ability to smell. After several years with Elizabeth, I believe that was I and the dog. However, mom did maintain her ability to sniff out food. Dad, I believe, can still smell mom's more pungent casseroles.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 10:26 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    hey, mike, if mom notices i'm not home and calls u, cd u say i'm there visiting?

    thanx,

    apes

     
  • At 11:32 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. Certainly.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 3:35 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Dearest future sister. 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

     

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