Michael's "Meany" Memories

Mike d-cided 2 share a memory he recently had:

April,

Formerly little sis. One of the nice things about the Christmas holidays is the opportunity to look at your children playing with their toys and then to remember back to the days when you were the same age that they were anddddd…….

OK! Deanna just slapped me because I let my son open one of his presents early. I know he is old enough to understand the presents are opened on Christmas Day. I know he is not supposed to be allowed to open them before Christmas. I remember what happened last Christmas when he got to open his presents early and he was weeping over every one that got burned in the fire and if he hadn’t opened them, then he wouldn’t know what they were to weep over them. Jeez. It’s just one toyyyyy.

OK. Deanna read that last bit and slapped me again. Cheeze. Just because I am kept man, doesn’t mean I have to be a slapped man. Where was I? Oh, yes.

I was looking at my son looking at his new toy airplane, the one with the odd colourings on it and where the wings weren’t placed on the plane properly. For some reason the wings were just glued on top of the place where the pilot sits and they weren’t even with the rest of the plane and there were no wheels where you could stand the plane when you weren’t playing with it, and who bought this piece of junk anyway? My mom never would have bought me a plane thisssssss

OK. I should be grateful that my wonderful, beautiful wife thought to buy my son a plane at all, since I didn’t buy any Christmas presents and I didn’t decorate the tree. The tree is decorated with a few red things and with those ugly green stars, with the ugliest green star on top. Who decorates with ugly green stars? Did we get this tree from the Grinch who stole Christmas? Look at it. Its just hidddd

OK. It’s a wonderful tree decorated by a wonderful woman who is the breadwinner in the house and I better not forget it. I got it. Let’s see. I was looking at my son playing with this terrific plane and it reminded me of how I had a plane when I was about his age. I used to play with my plane too, except without the demented look on my face and the tongue lolling out of my mouth with the drool and how did my son get to be so fffffff

OK. I am sick and tired of being smacked. I am just going to talk about myself now. I had a plane. It was from Philpott Department Store. It was a great little store with well-constructed planes that had wings and wheels and only one primary colour, just the way I like them. I was standing by mother looking at the toy. But then I realized, if I put the toy in my Philpott Department Store bag, the other things in the bag might crush it. So, I had to hold the toy out of the bag, and carry the bag and the stuff in it separately. This bag was stuffed and heavy and I needed two hands to hold it; but I had to have one hand holding the toy airplane, eh?

So, I said, “Ma? Do we have much farther to go, mom?” I was little in those days, and all I could see was my mother from the bottom down. She had on a green jacket with a big belt and black pants. She didn’t answer me.

So, I said, “I’ve been walking an’ walking…an’ I don’t wanna carry this any more!” Well, then mom walked away from me; but then she said, “You wanted that toy, Michael…the least you can do is carry it.” Well I tried to do that for awhile, but the department store bag kept getting heavier and heavier and it was hurting my fingers.

So, I said, “I don’t wanna carry it, mom…you carry it…YOU carry it!!! “ Well mom does not respond well to demands, and she doesn’t respond well to demands which are repeated twice without a proper period between them. So, she said in her own inimitable way, “NO!” You know the kind of “NO!” which is so loud it makes you drop your department store bag and the toy and causes your body to vibrate all over and the blood rush to your head so it makes your whole face red? That kind of loud. Well I wasn’t going to take this any more, so I yelled back at her “MEANY!”

Then something happened which was kind of confusing. I could have sworn when I was just looking at my mother, I could see the belt on her green shirt clearly all the way around. This time when I looked, she had Lizzie strapped on her back wearing a pink bonnet, and she was carrying two bags of groceries and she had a purse on her right arm. I thought to myself, “How did I miss that before?”

But then I thought more carefully. People don’t carry groceries around the middle of the bag, like mom was; because it rips the bag and squeezes the bread flat. Mom would hold the bags from the bottom. Plus, two full bags of groceries are heavy. Mom would use a cart, instead of taking a long walk with two heavy bags. But then I thought, why would I be carrying around a bag from Philpott Department Store and my airplane, if we were in a grocery store? Not only that, but Lizzie doesn’t wear a pink bonnet when we go grocery shopping, or really any time. It didn’t make any sense, like a scene drawn by someone trying to look pitiful but without thinking through it very carefully. Then I looked at the person clearly and she had enormous eyes, like some kind of toad. Then I had to apologize for yelling “MEANY!” at the toad lady. I think the whole thing was some kind of dream. That’s only way I can make sense out of it.

Now what did this have to do with my son and his airplane? I have lost my entire train of thought. Oh, wait. I should say I have lost my entire “airplane” of thought.

Well, Merry Christmas everyone! Deanna says it’s not until next week, but why wait?

Love,
Michael Patterson

Gah, I miss the Sundays when we didn't reminisce. Remember those? They were off-topic and often dull, but @ least they were present-tense. How I miss those. It just reminds me. . . . Never mind, I'll stop now.

Jeremy, what R those surprise Sunday planz U txt-ed me abt?

Apes