April's Real Blog

Friday, September 28, 2007

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

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13 Comments:

  • At 7:53 AM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Lets face it: your dad doesn't know what 'chaos' is, sweetie. HE always and ever lurches into the room after all the real shouting and havoc is done and calls the echo thereof 'chaos' but it's not. Since he never really saw you and your siblings at your worst, he smiles his smug, empty, idiot smile and thinks your mom is blowing smoke about how much a pain in the ass childrearing is.

     
  • At 2:21 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    Interesting experiment with the phone pictures. “Weird electric twinge in my gut”, eh? I have had that feeling before. Do you find ymereJ strangely attractive, in a way you never found Jeremy?

    I wonder if you would pronounce "ymereJ" like “emerge” since he seemed to emerge from your phone pictures.

    Sorry about the pun. I had a discussion with your dad recently and I am afraid it rubbed off a little bit. I talked with him about Jeremy Jones, since it was his dental records which confirmed the flattened, unrecognizable body found under all those Dutch tulips was Jeremy Jones. In between bad puns about record-keeping, he swears that the teeth found on the flattened body matched dental work he had done on Jeremy. However, he was unwilling to let me see the dental record comparison work he had done. He said it was such chaos in the office, he didn’t have time. I am afraid I agree with the dreadedcandiru2, your dad doesn’t know what chaos is. Your dad’s client list seems to have dropped off to persons who have been drinking too much coffee and/or kool-aid and need to have the stains removed from their teeth. There's not too many of them, and what ones there are, appear to be sedated so they have lost most of their senses. It was pretty peaceful in your dad's waiting room, and you could easily converse without being disturbed by anyone.

    Either that, or your dad is keeping those records a secret for some reason. Is there some reason why your dad would want it to appear as though Jeremy Jones was dead, when he really wasn’t?

    Love,
    Howard Bunt

     
  • At 2:40 PM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. You have interesting predictions. I am not sure I will be writing a summary conversation story tomorrow. I thought about launching into telling a story to my daughter about some more of my misadventures as a child. There is a great story about how I had breakfast and went to school and sharpened a pencil which would make for fascinating reading for your viewers, as I am sure they would interested in knowing how my daughter would react when she discovered that when I was young, we did eat breakfast and sharpen pencils.

    From what I have seen of Elizabeth and Anthony’s dates so far, they are not nearly as interesting as my breakfast and pencil story. However, it is your Blog, so you could write your own story about how you had breakfast and sharpened a pencil, if you wanted to. Just be sure to use a pun, when you do it.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 3:23 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    howard, that feeling in my gut. it was kind of like a blend of physical attraction and, like, fear. does that make ne sense?

    interesting question abt y my dad wd want ppl 2 think jeremy jones is dead if he isn't really. mayB sumthing abt how jeremy qualifies as a childhood sweetheart 4 me, and there4 a potential patterson spouse? mayB sumthing 2 do w/making sure that never can happ? i'm not sure.

    apes

     
  • At 3:41 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    I have to agree with your older brother about Anthony and Elizabeth's so-called romance being less riveting than watching him as a grade-schooler sharpening pencils. I could also like it to watching grout mildew as an example of sheer boredom. There'll be plenty a dry eye when those two get married, walk off into the sunset and stick to making just themselves miserable.

     
  • At 3:44 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    hm, i was thinking of painting my new room. do u think i shd describe how the paint looks as it dries?

    apes

     
  • At 5:31 PM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. As long as there is a pun about drying paint in there, I am sure it will be magnificent. After all, you are a Patterson, and one of the great things about being a Patterson is that what seems like a mundane part of our lives to us, is both heartwarming and riveting entertainment to others.

    Hum! I think I need to add a chapter about Leonard Driscoll picking his teeth to my second novel Breaking the Windjammer.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 5:48 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    Physical attraction and fear. Interesting. Considering the idea with Jeremy, as I recollect, filled you with thoughts of boredom and nausea. Not only is he opposite, but he provokes opposite feelings in you.

    As for your dad, that part about a potential Patterson spouse is fascinating in its possibilities. You are working on the presumption that your father would like to see Jeremy Jones removed as a potential spouse for you. However, just for the sake of argument, let’s take your brother and his spouse Deanna; and your sister and her potential spouse Anthony, and then compare how your dad feels about them vs. how he feels about your boyfriend Gerald Delaney-Forsythe. I am trying to think of a time, when your dad praised Gerald as a potential spouse for you, the way he praised Deanna and Anthony for your brother and sister. I can’t think of any, but I may be too far removed from the situation. Maybe the better way to think about it: Has your father said more kind words about Gerald or Jeremy to you? Or could it be about the same? Is it possible your father may think the opposite from what you expect?

    Love,
    Howard Bunt

     
  • At 6:59 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    hmm, v. good questions, howard. now that i think of it, i can't even think of NE xxamples of dad saying a thing abt EITHER boy.

    but that time that dad took ger and dunc in his 'vASSe 4 a joyride, he did let ger ride shotgun. and ger did kinda gush abt dad's car, which dad totally 8 up.

    otoh, yrs ago when those vandals smashed up dad's halloween train layout, it was jeremy who gave me the tip abt who did it. i know dad appreci8ed that, even tho he never really sed much abt jeremy.

    so. i'm not sure.

    apes

     
  • At 7:05 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    It sounds inconclusive. Maybe the reason doesn't have anything to do with your potential spouse, and the fact it was Jeremy was a coincidence. On the other hand, Duncan and Gerald went on the joyride with your father and not your bandmate Luis, and both Duncan and Gerald could qualify as childhood friends of yours, if Patterson childhood spousehood is the question, but Luis would not.

    Love,
    Howard Bunt

     
  • At 7:48 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    yeah, luis doesn't qualify. or @least not currently. if he and i started d8ing (not that i want 2, i don't want ne crayzee luis gf getting on my case again) sumtyme betw. now and april 2009, he cd b counted as 1.

    but i'm not xxactly sure if that means sumthing 4 figuring out what's going on w/jeremy, howard. do u think there's a luis clue i'm not thinking of?

    apes

     
  • At 9:24 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    I don't know if there is a Luis clue you are missing. But he, like Jeremy, didn't go on your dad's car ride with Gerald and Duncan. I feel as though I am grasping at straws. We definitely need some more information from somewhere.

    Love,
    Howard Bunt

     
  • At 5:10 AM, Anonymous michael pattterson said…

    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

     

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