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