What. Ever.
More reminiscing, foax, can U stand it? This time Mike has a story abt not wanting 2 eat his veggies, back in his kindergarten days:
Jeremy, sorry abt Liz, Anthony, and Francie horning in on our d8 last nite. I can't believe they roped us in2 babysitting while they, um. U know. Liz owes us big time!
Apes
April,Erg. Well, let's try an' guess what Mike's memory-topic will B 2morrow. We've had Mike teasing Lizzie, Mike wanting 2 play in the dirt, Liz with a potty on her head, Mike not wanting a bath, and now Mike not wanting 2 eat veggies but wanting 2 eat dessert. First winning guess receives a gently used copy of Stone Season, with an inscription to a "cool sister."
Formerly little sis. As you are aware, my lovely wife Deanna has an affinity for carrots.
When mom first discovered this particular precocious preference, she laughed and laughed. She said, “It serves you right Michael after all those times when you would just sit and stare at your plate of food and refuse to eat your carrots.
"You would just sit there, and I would say to you, ‘Alright…just eat the vegetables, Michael…’ and you would do nothing. Then I would walk to the other side of you as if I were speaking to a different you and I would say, ‘I’ll be happy if you’ll eat just a FEW carrots, then.’ And I pointed to your plate so you would know which ones were the carrots. And then you would sit there and do nothing.
"And then I would give up and lift up your plate where a few peas would fall off onto the table and I would say, ‘OK…I guess if you can’t eat, you can’t eat.’ But then as I was walking away with the carrots you would yell, ‘Hey! What about dessert?’ The sound of your voice yelling for dessert caused me no end of irritation Michael. So when you tell me that Deanna loves carrots, it’s the funniest thing to me. Hysterical.”
And she would cackle about it whenever Deanna was around. Occasionally she would say to Deanna, “Are you having carrots, tonight? I think a family can never have enough carrots. And if there is dessert, it should be carrot cake, or carrot pudding. I have recipes I can give you, Deanna. I think you are just the perfect wife for Michael.”
Sometimes it can be a bad thing when your mom likes your choice of wife. I have the slightly orange skin to prove it.
Love,
Michael Patterson
Jeremy, sorry abt Liz, Anthony, and Francie horning in on our d8 last nite. I can't believe they roped us in2 babysitting while they, um. U know. Liz owes us big time!
Apes
Labels: Dee, gratuitous reminiscing, Mike, Mom, Patterson food obsession
posted by April Patterson @ 6:35 AM
12 Comments:
At 7:39 AM,
DreadedCandiru2 said…
Well, this is a first. I actually find myself cheering on your brawling shrew of a mother. But not too much. Payback isn't the only thing that's a bitch.
At 11:54 AM,
Anonymous said…
april, i’m gonna guess ur bro’s gonna remember picking on ur sis again 4 Saturday, since he only did that one tyme this week. howevah, if i win, i don’t want a copy of stone season. i have a whole diff idea of the prize i wud like frum u. also, that v-day gift of the boxers w/the hearts, i have them on now, in case u wanna check them out.
At 11:57 AM,
Anonymous said…
april, i don’t wanna copy of that book either, but i am gonna guess ur bro is gonna remembah sumthin’ where there’s a silhouette. my peeps were around back in the old days.
At 12:03 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
I predict your brother will talk about how he wished he could be a muy macho Latino, like me. Rosario and I will see you tonight, and she promises not to bring her little megafone along.
Love,
Luis Guzmán
At 12:30 PM,
howard said…
April,
I have read about people who have phobias to all kinds of food, such as carrots, potatoes, celery, rice pudding or custard - anything, in fact. According to the doctors, a phobia, or a 'phobic response', is a fear of something that totally outweighs the object itself. To most of us, a carrot is hardly the stuff of horror movies, but to a carrot-phobic, the merest hint that one is in the room may have them shaking, panicking and breaking out into a sweat. Have you noticed any behaviour like this with your brother? Does he ever say things like, “I've feared carrots since a very young age. I put it down to them being orange with what appears to be green hair and those teeth like fangs." As for my prediction, I predict your brother will not talk about carrots.
By the way, I am royally ticked off at Gordon and Tracey Mayes. My little María came back from her Valentine’s Day date with Paul Mayes with a big rock on her finger and an announcement she is engaged. What’s worse is that she told us she is not the first girl in her class to be engaged…that there are 15 girls in Grade 6 already engaged. Aren’t you glad you were just kissing Gerald when you were 11, and not engaged to get married to him? No wonder your sister feels like an old maid. If this is the standard for the town of Milborough, then she really is one. My big problem is that Beatrice is delighted that María will be marrying into one of the best families in Milborough and she will be set for life.
My daughter Ana, who is 2 years older than María is very upset. She’s saying things like, “I’m going to be just like Elizabeth Patterson, where even the worst, most disgusting man in town doesn’t want to propose to me, after I throw myself at him.” She’s exaggerating of course. Ana is not anything like your sister. I pointed out to Ana that her Auntie April is almost 17 years old and she’s not engaged. It didn’t help. If you could say something comforting to her, aside from the usual “Leave Milborough as soon as possible”, I would appreciate it.
Love,
Howard Bunt
At 12:39 PM,
Anonymous said…
Howard,
I do not have a carrot-phobia. If anything, I have an over saturation of carrots in my life, but I am not afraid of them. I take a peeler and peel their little carrot skins off and feed them to our rabbit. Does that sound like a man afraid of carrots? No, it does not. Michael Patterson fears no vegetable. I just don’t like to eat them, like most, good Canadian men.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 4:01 PM,
Anonymous said…
April,
I do not like you insinuating that Anthony and I "did it" on Valentine's Day, I would tell you what really happened, but I am waiting for further instructions from the Johnston Institute, until I hear from them, what happened on my Valentine's date is classified.
Liz
At 4:21 PM,
Anonymous said…
april, i guess that xxplainz y thoze johnston insitute peeps came by the house & made me sign a paper that sed i wud not reveal wutevah it is that i know 'bout ur sis & v-day. weird.
neway, i will cu l8er 4 salsa dancin' w/rosario & luis.
At 4:26 PM,
April Patterson said…
jeremy, u sure found a clever way 2 confirm 2 me that u really have those heart-pattern boxers on!
pretty much every1 who has been making predictions abt 2morrow's mike flashback has been saying they don't want 2 "win" mike's book. ne1 surprised. i think it's going 2 b a flashback that has nothing 2 do w/teasing liz.
howard, liz told me she overheard one of her grade-four boys proposing 2 one of the grade-four girls, saying, "let's get engaged so u don't have 2 worry abt turning out like miss patterson."
liz, i didn't insinu8 nething. i sed 2 jeremy that u and anthony were doing "u know." jeremy knew what u 2 were doing, that's all. he followed the sound of yr fone when i was trying 2 call u, and, well, that door was open. and he saw what u were doing.
apes
At 5:24 PM,
Anonymous said…
april, "a clever way 2 confirm 2 u 'bout the heart-pattern boxers". thanx 4 the compliment. i guess it wuz clever.
but u rilly did not hafta tell me that story 'bout how ur dad lets peeps know wut kinda patterns he haz on his boxers 4 comparison 2 wut i did. it's gonna take a bit 4 me 2 get that image outa my head.
At 9:32 PM,
April Patterson said…
sorry, jeremy. my dad's way was totally NOT clever. shda thot b4 putting that image in yr head, tho.
apes
At 12:57 AM,
Anonymous said…
April,
Formerly little sis. Every once in awhile there comes a time when a man has to stand up for his own. A time when right is right and wrong is wrong. A time when a man has to have really good hair.
I lot of times when I remember back to 1979, I remember myself with a fairly significant receding hairline for a kid who’s just 5-years-old. But today when I was reminiscing, I thought back to a time when Lawrence Poirier, my best friend next door, and I nearly came to blows, all because he crossed the line. He delved into territory he shouldn’t have even thought about.
Yes, April. When Lawrence was 5-years-old, he hit our sister Lizzie. I was furious. I grabbed him by the collar so that the back of his collar was tight against the back of his neck (and he went googly-eyed and his tongue stuck out as if I were choking him, so I must have really gotten this shirt-pulling thing wrong), and I said, “Don’t you ever hit Lizzie again, Lawrence!”
When Lawrence was flustered, I remember he used to do these great contortionist tricks to distract his opponent. He would pull his shoulders out of their sockets and bend his left arm around backwards. Then he said, “Honest, Mike…it wasn’t hard…I just er…sort of pushed…” That technique usually worked but I did my best vulture imitation taught me by the master, and those contortions had no effect on me.
Well, then Lawrence did one of my favourite contortions where he puts his hands together and makes it look like he has 8 fingers instead of the normal 10. And he did the thing with his eyes, where he made one look like it was going to cry and the other one look like Quasimodo. Then I looked down and realized Lawrence was wearing a dress and not pants. I am not so heartless, formerly little sis, that these contortions and this public transvestitism did not touch me. But I still had to have a show of strength, so I waved my fist in the air and said the classic Patterson threat, “Well, just you watch it. Or else.”
Lawrence did one more contortion with his right arm as I walked away thinking, “Nobody picks on my baby sister…---But me.” Those are words to live by, formerly little sis. Words to live by. I was feeling pretty good about myself, and then I realized I didn’t have the receding hair line any more. It was almost as if someone had decided to redraw my face into one more suitable for the memory.
So, formerly little sis, that’s the story about how I stood up for my right to be the only person allowed to pick on my baby sister.
Love,
Michael Patterson
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