April's Real Blog

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Nitrous Oxide an' Memories

Mike has an unfortunate memory 2 share:
April,

Formerly little sis. Tonight at dinner, my lovely wife Deanna said to me, “Mike. I think the kids might be old enough to hear the ‘drug’ speech.” I said to her, “What drug speech?” She said, “Well, Michael. It’s where the parents tell the children about drugs, and which ones are illegal and legal and how they are not supposed to be used unless you have a prescription and permission from your pharmacist.” I said to my wife, “The kids aren’t old enough to be exposed to drugs.” My wife said, “Michael Patterson, we have drug addicts come into the pharmacy every day to try to convince us to give them illegal drugs, and some of them are only 3 years old.” I said, “We’ve been through this before. Françoise Caine is not a drug addict. She’s just overly smart for her age.” Deanna said, “Mike, I brought home some literature. You read and prepare yourself for the talk.”

So, I did. There were a lot of good drugs listed in the material that I have never trie…I mean that I have never heard of. However, when I was reading about the effects of Nitrous oxide, and how dentists often use it, I suddenly remembered something that happened during my youth that makes more sense today, than it did back then.

I remember the lady who works in dad’s clinic, Jean Baker, I think, came to visit mom and she was talking about dad. She said, “Elly. I saw John working on a small black boy, while he was screaming bloody, murder. John had a strange look on his face as he did dental work on him, while at the same time he had the boy’s body pinned down with his right arm. Then I saw John chop off one of a little blonde girl’s pigails and said, ‘Are we not going to see that lovely smile, Melissa?’ Then I saw John after he had hurt a patient, whom we all knew was a man who was accustomed to giving himself his own haircuts and grabbing people by their shirts, say, ‘Certainly…by all means let me know if you feel any pain!’ Then I had to tell him, ‘Those supplies you needed immediately have been backordered till next month, John.’ The whole time he has this odd grin on his face.”

Jean Baker continues, “Then I saw John hallucinating by this old lady that her breath was producing garlic and onions. Then I saw him deal with a lady with the baby that bites, and he said, ‘…and let’s just keep him home till he’s over this biting habit.’ Then I saw him go into his car at the end of the day, and honk the horn as he prepared to head out into traffic. The whole time he had this weird smile on his face. What was he like when he came home?”

Then I remember mom saying, “Oh, the same as usual. He growled and made some kind of sexist remark.” Then I remember when I was young, interrupting that conversation and saying, “No he didn’t. I was looking out the window. I said, ‘Mom. Mom. Daddy’s home.’ Then I opened the door for him and said, ‘Hi Daddy.’ Then he just “Growl”-ed so loud my hair went back off my forehead. There wasn’t any kind of sexist remark.” Mom disagreed, and so I demurred. But then Jean Baker said, “Well, I just thought I would point it out because we have been missing some Nitrous oxide in the office, and Dr. Patterson has been spending more and more time in the supply cabinet between patients. And he smiles a whole lot these days at work.”

Mom said, “Smiling and then growling when someone comes home is a time-honoured tradition in the Patterson family household.” I guess that meant if dad had to stop growling, then mom would have to stop growling too. However, Jean Baker, just left in a huff and said, “I just thought I would let you have a chance to put a stop to this; but I can see you don’t care.” Later I remember mom talking to dad about Jean Baker and the strange habits of circus folk.

But now I know this new information about Nitrous oxide, that story makes a little more sense to me now.

Love,
Michael Patterson
Funny U shd mention all that. I heard a rumour that nitrous oxide had sumthing 2 do w/all the trub Dad kept having remembering that Everett Callahan is not named Elliott. I wonder if Mom will ever have that guy on the "Who's Who" section of her web site.

Apes

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6 Comments:

  • At 1:52 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Well, at least we know that Liz lay all the blame for her nasty habit of displacing her aggression on your Mom; she gets waiting till she feels safe to vent from both ends of the gene pool.

     
  • At 6:04 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    yeah, mom, dad, liz, mike, they r all freekee.

    hey can ne1 help me w/sims2 on playstation2? i m going crayzee cuz i have these stupid sims who live in an m-t lot, an' i got them beds an' a sink, but every time i try 2 buy a toilet, even tho i keep pressing that "x" thing on my control, the dumb toilet won't stay. what m i doing wrong?!?!?!!?

    apes

     
  • At 7:57 PM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. It took me awhile to figure out what “freekee” meant; but it was not beyond the skills of a published author. Eventually I realized that “free” means something without a cost and “kee” was the archaic plural for “kine” or the modern “cow.” It was very confusing to think why you would say Mom, Dad, Liz and I are all freekee, unless you are making some sort of obscure reference to having been served dinner of aged beef by all of us, a dinner for you I am sure was free.

    Despite this odd description of us, I would also like to point out that not only can Dad not remember if it is Elliot or Everett who is his business partner, he also often cannot remember if he sold his clinic to him or not.

    As for your Sims2 problem, Deanna says she'll send our daughter over to help you fix it.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 8:42 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    ok, never mind. i figured it out. dumb sims!

    apes

     
  • At 8:42 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    no, mike, it was just another way of spelling "freaky." u r FREAKY, dammit.

    apes

     
  • At 12:14 AM, Anonymous liz patterson said…

    April,

    I have been blessed with another week of talking about me and my life, which is wonderful of course because I will be talking about my progress toward getting married, but I have horrible news, when we were out shopping with Frenchy, it was snowing, and Anthony being a rugged and manly sort of man did not wear a hat, when I asked him if it would not be smart to wear a hat, he said, "Never fear, Elizabeth dear, my constitution is as hale and hardy as that of William Henry Harrison," and so he went without a hat, and snow got in his hair, and that brat Frenchy started to harass him about it, I swear, that child never lets up with her complaining and demands, and Anthony told her it was okay because the snow hid the gray hair, well, I smiled and laughed at that but inwardly I panicked, the Milborough aging curse is speeding up!, and I don't have a engagement ring yet!, I have to get married, what if Anthony dies before we can get married, then I will not even get the respect that a widow gets, and no one will want to marry a girl who is 27 or 26 or some age in around there, and I will have to make up some weird convoluted story like Connie Poirier just to save face, like "oh, I was married once, to some South American accountant, but now I'm a brave widow!" and who will raise Frenchy, will I get stuck with her?, that would be a fate worse than death, oh God, I have to figure out a way to get Anthony down the aisle and fast, and I better tell that seamstress to hurry up on my pure white wedding dress, it better be ready the instant that Anthony finally gets it together and proposes to me, omg, I think I am getting gray hairs from worrying so much about this, why is Anthony so inconsiderate, doesn't he know we are racing against the clock here?!?

    Liz

     

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