April's Real Blog

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

No

*@#% this. I'm not doing this flashback. I'll talk 2 U all when there's sumthing new 2 share.

Apes

Edit: In case U h8 yrself enuf that U want 2 know abt the flashback I M boycotting 2day, U can read Mike's description of it here.

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posted by April Patterson @ 6:17 AM  

16 Comments:

  • At 7:19 AM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Great. The way your mother is, it could be weeks before we get to talk again. All this because she can't let go of the past.

     

  • At 8:55 AM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    srsly. :(

    apes

     

  • At 9:03 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    april, so r we gonna b watchin' the leafs 2nite, or is that off?

     

  • At 9:38 AM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    we're totally watching the leafs, jeremy. leafs ftw. i m just boycotting the flashbacks, is all.

    apes

     

  • At 12:16 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. I did not realize the reason for your distress in your Blog entry writing, until I came by mom’s house in search of some food out of her refrigerator. There I saw mom all glassy-eyed and standing still and dad was there cringing in fear. I asked dad what was going on and he said, “She’s remembering a story from 1979.” I said, “Cheeze and rice, dad. Again? I thought she said she wasn’t going to do this anymore because it confused people. What brought this on?” Dad said, “I did the dishes.” I said, “Well, that shows questionable judgment on your part. What story is she thinking about this time?”

    Dad said, “Well. It started out with 1979 Elly looking at dishes she had dirtied from her cooking.” I said, “Oh! You mean back in the days when she used to just put things on the stove and leave them and then found they had overflowed over the sides and burnt the pans?” Dad said, “Exactly. Back in those days.” I said, “How did we survive back then, dad?” Dad said, “Back in those days, it was the woman’s job to cook and it was the man’s job to eat what she cooked. Every morsel of burnt and overcooked food in my mouth was a testament to my devotion to my wife.” I said, “I think I just threw mine on the floor, and got cookies later on when no one was looking.” Dad said, “That you did. Well, then seeing those nearly-destroyed dishes, 1979 Elly said, “UGH! That does it! I want a dishwasher!”

    I started laughing and said, “Like a dishwasher could clean mom’s old cooking messes.” Dad said, “Exactly. However, realizing my wife was getting ready to face another round of scrubbing burnt food, I offered to help. I said, ‘You don’t need a dishwasher, Elly. You’ve got me.’” At this moment, mom came out of her trance and said, “That’s not what you meant. You meant that you were too cheap to get me a dishwasher.” Dad said, “I did get you a dishwasher, and we still wash everything by hand.

    Mom said, “I want one that works!” Dad said, “That’s what you said back in 1979. You ignored my offer to wash dishes and kept on washing them by hand. I buy you a dishwasher and you wash the dishes by hand. What is the deal with that?” Mom said, “The dishwasher doesn’t get the dishes as clean as I do by hand.” Dad said, “How would you know? You don’t use it.” Mom said, “You had enough time back then to get me a dishwasher that works and you didn’t do it. It’s your fault I am the way I am. You’ve made me do the dishes all these years and never offered to help. I have grown old and wrinkled and bitter, all thanks to you.”

    Dad said, “When a man says, ‘You don’t need a dishwasher…you’ve got me,’ what does that mean to you? It means to me, ‘Stop washing the dishes and I will take over.’” Mom said, “When he sits there reading a newspaper and doesn’t get off his lazy bottom, it means I have a husband too cheap to get me a working dishwasher.” Dad said, “What do you want me to do? Force you to stop washing the dishes by hand?” Mom said, “You had enough time to do that. If you tried hard enough, you had enough time to stop me.” Dad said, “Cheeze. I wish I hadn’t done the dishes.”

    Then mom went all glassy-eyed again, and I expect that she is going to think of another occasion back in 1979, when Dad didn’t do some housework. I can completely understand why you avoided talking about this. It’s unpleasant when parents fight over things that happened 29 years ago as if they happened today.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

  • At 12:18 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Could you please call me, I'm at my apartment, I took the day off from work so I could hug Shiimsa, cuddle in a corner, and cry, I'm worried how Mom is always talking about how Dad is a jerk these days, all her rememberies are about how she hated he never helped with the housework, I'm afraid Mom and Dad are gonna get a divorce, she really seems to hate him now, and then where will we be, with a broken home?, you can't be a First Family of Milborough if you are divorced, if Mom and Dad get divorced, then our status will be gone, also, if Dad is such a jerk, how come Mom wants me to marry a guy she says is just like him (Anthony)?, I'm so confused, and worst of all, I'm afraid it might interfere with me finally getting married!

    Liz

    P.S.--I wish the Aprilbot were here.

     

  • At 1:15 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    This dishwasher in our house is broken and we need to buy a new one. I saw your mother on the street and asked if she had any recommendations for a new dishwasher and she said, “Definitely not John!” Thanks to your Blog comments, now I understand what was going on.

    Love,
    Howard Bunt

     

  • At 1:21 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    mike, so u c what i mean. i think the distant past shd stay in the past, don't u?

    liz, i will call u during my 2pm spare.

    apes

     

  • At 1:23 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Elizabeth,

    Slightly older little sis. You do not need to worry about Mom and Dad getting a divorce and us losing our status as the First Family of Milborough. Those are silly thoughts. Mom would sooner go back into the past and change her cute, little nose back then to the giant honker she has now, than divorce Dad. Mom is simply exercising her wifely control over dad, in the same manner she does when she corrects his laundry-folding or the amount of time he spends in the loo. It is a natural thing for a wife to do, when a husband is so foolish to fold laundry or to go to the loo, when the wife is looking. The next time Anthony goes to the washroom, make a comment through the door about how long he is taking. You will feel much better about things with Mom and Dad.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

  • At 1:56 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Michael:

    With regards to the remote possibility that your parents may divorce, I don't think that Liz has anything to worry about either. Your mom needs someone to be upset about that isn't her so she'll never leave and your dad wants no part of younger women because they're all heatlh nuts and refuse to cook baconburgers, stew and tuna-noodle casseroles.

     

  • At 2:04 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Mike,

    But Mom really seems to hate Dad, she called me up last night and said, "Wait till you hear some of the complaints I remembered about your dad from 1979, you'll never believe it, okay, we'll stick with volume 1 for tonight," and I said, "Mom, how many volumes of complaints about Dad do you have?" and she said, "Well, about 33 years of marriage times 365 days, divided by about 100 pages in a volume," and I said, "Mom, I don't do math, that's why I'm a teacher, they give you a book with the answers in it," and Mom said, "It's about 120 volumes of complaints, plus there are some complaints about him I did not remember to make back in the old days, so I am going to fill in the old complaints with some new complaints about the old days, that I will try to do in my old style, but they will probably wind up being a hybrid of my old style and my new style," and I groaned, and then the complaints started, she said, "Why John Patterson Is A Jerk, volume 1, subtitled 'Housework: Dishwashing--The Early Years,' once upon a time there was a wonderful, modest, responsible, cleanly woman named Elly..." and it was around that time that I went to get my stuffed bunny and started sucking my thumb.

    Liz

     

  • At 4:01 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    DreadedCandiru2,

    Amazon river catfish friend, thanks ever so much for your kind words of comfort.

    Just to let you know, my father’s actual physical ideal in a woman is a skinny, wrinkly lady carrying a Stihl chainsaw. I think it is fairly safe to say there are none of those in Milborough, and I expect, judging from their appearance, none of them cook like mom.

    Michael Patterson

     

  • At 4:03 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Elizabeth,

    Slightly older little sis. Complaints about a husband are a time-honoured trait of the Patterson woman, and the fact that mom has collected 120 volumes of complaints is simply a testimony to how wonderful a wife she is.

    My lovely Deanna has her own collections. The first one she calls I Like Mike More Than I Hate My Parents, which she collected during our courtship stage. And she has Mike was Right Again. Weed is a Great Kisser from our early married life. And there are some more in between. Her most recent one is Firemen Make Me Really Hot, which has a pun in the title, eh?

    So, you see, Liz, this is all tradition. Some day my lovely Deanna will have 120 volumes of complaints that she can read to our daughter over the phone, just like mom is doing with you. Well, almost just like. No one can really match mom when it comes to complaining.

    You can look forward to sharing your collections of complaints about Anthony Caine someday with your daughter (not the half-Quebecoise daughter in your house, but the one you have yourself). I am sure if you look around, there are bound to be things you can start writing about Anthony, in preparation for when you two are finally married.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

  • At 4:18 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    liz, better not let dad know u r sucking yr thumb again, 'else he'll make u wear that mouth appliance he stuck u with when u were in middle school, that gave u a lisp and made other kids tease u. true, he cd have had u wear it only @ nite, since that was when u actually sucked yr thumb, but i think he believed making u wear the appliance all the time was more humourous.

    apes

     

  • At 11:42 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    blues 3, leafs 2. the only sadder wuz havin’ 2 watch the game w/ur sis there, suckin’ her thumb, snugglin’ that stuffed animal, wimperin’, rockin’ & occasionally tryin’ 2 hug her cat. no offence april, but i rilly don’t wanna c anothah hockey game w/ur sis in her apartment, where it iz way obvious she duzn’t live nemore. dust & cat poop all ovah the place.

     

  • At 1:58 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. Well, I wandered by your house to check and see if there was any good food running about in mom’s refrigerator. As I was chomping down a bit of leftover meatloaf, I looked up and saw one of the strangest sights I think I have ever seen. Mom was standing there, glassy-eyed as usual when she is thinking about how life was back in 1979, but her face startled me. Instead of her usual appearance; her mouth was twisted, distorted and contorted and her eyes had an expression on them almost as if she were disfigured and warped from all that was natural. I said to Dad, “What’s wrong with mom? Do we need to take her to hospital?” Dad said, “No, Mike. You are witness to a rare occurrence, not often seen around here.” I said, “What? What is it? What’s wrong with mom?” Dad said, “There’s nothing wrong with mom. That’s how she looks when she is happy.” I said, “I can’t stand to look at her like this. It’s like my whole world has turned upside down. Make it stop. Make it stop.” Dad said, “Give it a rest, Mike. Elly has been happy before.”

    Tenuously I said to him, “Dad. What story could she possibly be thinking of to bring this misshapen look to her face?” Dad said, “It was one of the stories from 1979 again.” I said, “What happened?”

    Dad said, “Back in 1979, Elly and I would actually entertain and have parties in our house.” I said, “Like Christmas dinner?” Dad said, “No. With friends and not relatives.” I said, “Go on, you kidder. You didn’t do that. I would remember.” Dad said, “It was at night after you and your sister were asleep. Elly would put on one of her dresses that showed off her figure and that neck choker and hair ribbon combination she loved.” I said, “The one where she tied her pony tail to her neck choker?” Dad said, “That’s the one. Well, on this particular occasion we were saying goodbye to the people who we invited over the party and let them out our door which looked more like an undecorated piece of wood.” I said, “I remember that door. No handles and it went all the way to the ceiling. I remember when you first put it in, it took us a whole day to find a way out of the house, and we had to climb out onto the roof and jump off to go to school.” Dad said, “Well excuse me. Who would think a door had to have handles on it to be opened? Your mom and I managed all right at this party.”

    Dad said, “After the party was over, she and I were holding big stacks of dirty dishes. As we were carrying them, 1979 Elly said, ‘I Ioved the way you told them the dishes were your job!’” I said, “Dad! You didn’t say such a thing as that in front of other people, did you? Where’s your family pride?” Dad said, “Tut. Tut. Michael. I didn’t say, ‘Washing the dishes.’ I said, ‘The dishes were my job.’” I said, “Dad. That sort of subtle difference in language is the reason I became a writer.” Dad said, “Hey! Don’t blame me for that.”

    Dad continued, “Then 1979 Elly was putting up dishes while I washed them, and she said, ‘And how you feel it’s only fair that the man do half the chores…’” I said, “You said that in front of other people? Is this something you believe? I feel as though I don’t know you any more.” Dad said, “Calm down, Mike. The quote is taken out of context. There should be an equal division of household labour in theory; but from a practical standpoint, while I was working in my dental practise all day, naturally I could not match your mother working on chores at home at the same time.”

    I said, ‘If we both were not working, it’s only fair that the man do half the chores.’ Your mother didn’t pick up on that crucial ‘if’.” I said, “Are you saying mom was ‘if”-less?” Dad said, “Exactly.” I said, “But even if both the man and woman were not working, you don’t believe the man should do half the chores. I can’t believe you would lie like that!” Dad said, “It was the 70s. It was a different time. Women’s liberation was at its height and men found themselves having to say things they didn’t believe, in order to get along at parties and to appear ‘with it’ and ‘cool’” I said, “Well, mom knew it was a lie.” Dad said, “I know. That’s why I said to her, “Thanks for not telling them the truth!”

    I said, “I don’t understand this whole thing. Are you saying if all your friends were to jump off a bridge while shouting, ‘Women and men should share the chores 50-50’, you would do the same thing?” Dad said, “In the 1970s I would.” I said, “That must have been a sad, sad time; if it makes mom look happy to think about it.”

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

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