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