Off the Wall

Gah, I can't believe we're still gonna B on SuperTeddy and Mike and the past. NEway, here's the l8est from Mike:

April,

Formerly little sis. One of the more interesting things about living in our new house/my old house from living in our little apartment in Toronto is how the marital dynamic and parenting dynamic between my lovely wife Deanna and I have changed. When we were in Toronto, I was the breadwinner and I spent most of my time in my apartment attic, doing the work which made the money which allowed me to be the breadwinner. Deanna naturally was the children’s disciplinarian, and I took the usual role of the father, which is to play with them out of doors.

Now we are in the new house and Deanna is the breadwinner, she has gotten all kinds of strange ideas into her head. The other day, she was bringing me a box of Oaties cereal for my breakfast, when my daughter or my son (I don’t know which one), hurled their Super Teddy with their phrase “Hiiyaa Kowabunga Super Teddy!!” and the characteristic “Whap!” sound effect followed it, as it hurled into Deanna’s back and caused her to “float the Oaties” (I am sure you remember that commercial. Well, maybe you don’t. You are only 16, after all.”

Hanging the Super Teddy by his cape, as if it were a distasteful thing to her, Deanna put the Super Teddy in my face and said, “Michael, this Super Teddy thing has got to stop!” I immediately recognized, by its unique circularly-shaped muzzle, it was not the Super Teddy used by my son or daughter in either of its other appearances in my house. However, I did not point this out to my lovely Deanna. She was not in the mood, and she even wore black lipstick to emphasize this point. It took my mind completely off the bad news I had read in the Editor and Publisher where it discussed a nice lady named Lynn Johnston and the pain she was suffering from her divorce that she planned to pass on to other people via a national medium in over 2000 papers. I learned that on November 25, my wife Deanna will be dressing our children, and I expect that fact that she does this activity, common to parenting young children, will warm the hearts of all the other mothers in the world, who also dress their children. The mothers, who don’t dress their children, will probably wish they did when they hear my lovely Deanna does that.

But I digress. My main shock was that, as Deanna is now the breadwinner, she seemed to expect me to change and become the disciplinarian for our children. Instead of calling the Super Teddy thing to a halt herself, she expects me to do it. As you know, formerly little sis, my beliefs when it comes to discipline are: If it’s funny, you can do it. To illustrate this point with my wife, I googled my eyes around on my face and said, “I think it’s kinda funny.” This was another way of saying I had no plans to stop my daughter’s hurling of Super Teddy. Deanna responded in the typical Patterson woman way to adversity, which is she turned her back on the person with whom she had a disagreement and tossed comments over her shoulder as she walked away. She said, “Just because it’s something you used to do, doesn’t make it funny.” I don’t know where she got that idea, but I have a feeling I am going to use lots and lots of photographs from my early history to prove her wrong. After all, if something doesn’t appear to be funny to some people, there is no better way of bringing their opinion to match yours, than an unceasing series of old photographs.

So I said, “Come on, Dee--when you were a little kid, you must have done a few things that were off the wall!” My lovely Deanna sat there in a trance for a moment and then she left. When she came back, she was carrying a photo album and said, “I will show you just how ‘off the wall’ I was when I was young.” Then she showed me a picture of a woman wearing a Patterson man outfit, (collared shirt and pullover sweater and drab pants), looking down at a young Deanna Sobinski, who had apparently mastered the technique of drawing on a wall using a sponge and a bucket. The pictures on the wall were a monster in a dress, a disembodied head on a string, a sun, and a curled up horizontal snake in the grass. The pictures were a little disturbing for sponge art, but perhaps appropriate for October and Hallowe’en. I mentioned this to Deanna and she said, “No! You goof! I’m washing the drawing off the wall with the sponge and the bucket. That way I can use the phrase ‘off the wall’ to go along with your pun lead-in.” I was quite embarrassed that I had not realized my lovely Deanna was making a pun. It’s an activity she does not do very often; but now she’s the breadwinner, I suppose I better get used to it.

Then Deanna said, “Since I am the breadwinner and you spent the last month torturing our daughter with your reminisces of your past, it’s my turn to tell you about my past. Did I ever tell you the reason why I left Milborough, all those years ago?” I said, “You said your dad started a hardware store in Burlington and so you had to leave with your parents.” My wife said, “Michael. Michael. Michael. Forget I ever said anything about that. My story will have 3 purposes (1) Give people relief from having to hear about you and your family, (2) Tell the true story about why I had to leave and (3) Point out as many bad things about my mother and her parenting as I possible can.” I said, “That’s pretty ambitious. If you are not careful, you will make people love your mother and hate you. Perhaps I should write it for you.” My lovely Deanna refused.

So, formerly little sis, it looks like the next month will be of Deanna telling about her life with her mother (the most evil mother in the world) and why Deanna moved. I think I am going to go into an old room in the house and watch paint peel off the wall, while she tells her story. That way I will have something to sustain my interest.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Ugh. Oh, well, foax, like Mike sez, we'll prolly get a month of this. Gird yr loins!

Apes