April's Real Blog

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Mom and gifts

Mike has sum stuff 2 tell abt what happened after he and Dee visited w/Weed and Carleen in Toronto:
April,

Formerly little sis. After a fun evening of wrestling with Josef Weeder, while my wife Deanna and Josef’s significant other Carleen Stein watched, we finally had to head back to our home in Milborough. I think Deanna got a little excited, seeing manly men like me and Weed wrestle. Her eyes were all perked up and she said, “It’s been an exciting day, hasn’t it.” I had the feeling she might have gotten a little aroused about seeing my wrestling skills, and might want to put me in a few wrestling holds of her own. To stave this off, I simply said, “Yes…I’m exhausted!” That usually works when Deanna says it to me.

I think that Deanna sensed what I was saying, and she began to try to convince me otherwise. She leaned over to my side of our car causing a shift in weight which made the wheels on our vehicle to actually touch the road. Deanna moved in close to me. I could feel her hot breath so close to mine. She nibbled on my ear and then engaged me in one of my favourite topics of conversation, which almost always turns me on: My mother. Deanna said, “We’re lucky that your mom takes the kids for us. She makes life so much easier.” Then when she said, “easier” she gave me a sultry look telling me she had just made a pun on the word “easier”. As you know, April, a pun is the way to man’s heart. I was beginning to warm to the idea of wrestling with Deanna. I responded with “She really is a godsend!”

Deanna did not react well to this. Deanna said, “A godsend? Oh good grief, Mike. If she were a godsend, she would have come to our house to sit the kids, so they could go to sleep in their own beds, instead of insisting that we bring the kids to her house. When we have April baby-sit us, she bathes the kids and puts them to bed in their own beds. I’ll bet we are going to find our children wallowing in their own filth.” I did not like the way this was going. I was getting out of the wrestling mood. I said, “Let’s stop and get the flowers.” Deanna said, “Yes. I suppose we are going to have to get them from now on, ever since you forgot your mother on Mother’s Day.

As we approached mom’s house, Deanna was still fuming. I tried to placate Deanna’s anger by saying, “I can’t imagine what we’d do without her.” Deanna sighed and said, “A lot less, that’s for sure.”

Mom was there in her night robe and her hair was down. Deanna looked briefly perplexed. I said, “It’s mom. She just has her hair down.” Deanna said, “She wears it down?” Mom sensed her indecision and said, “For me?!!” as she took the flowers out of Deanna’s hands.

We got the children, and I for one was grateful for the extreme care mom had given my children. I mentioned this to Deanna and she said, “You know, Mike. When I picked up Robin and felt his very full diaper, it brought a smile to my face.” I wasn’t sure why, but at least Deanna didn’t make me change the diaper.

That’s all I have for this week, April. Perhaps I will regale your readers again next week.

Love,
Michael Patterson
Then he also had this to add on:
April,

Formerly little sis. Mom read my writeup and wanted me to point out that as we left, she thought the thought, "Grandchildren: The Gifts that Keep on Giving." I said to her, "Is that supposed to make sense?" Mom said, "It will make the perfect design for the side of a marketable coffee cup one day." It was difficult to argue with that logic.

Love,
Michael Patterson
Mike, I really doubt Dee was punning when she used the word "easier." Seriously, U R going way overboard looking 4 puns. Oh, and abt Robin's diaper. I overheard Mom talking 2 Connie the next day, saying, "I could have changed that diaper, but really, he'll never learn to use the po' if he doesn't experience discomfort." Can U believe that? Hm, that reminds me--I think I might need to increase my babysitting fee.

Apes

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6 Comments:

  • At 11:16 AM, Anonymous jeremy jones said…

    april, well ur bro & ur sil have weird convos thass 4 sure. i know just the othah day u were sayin’ how sumtymes u thot ur mom wuz like a creature sent 2 torture u & how she made ur life so much harder, & how u cudn’t w8 till the day wen u didn’t hafta live w/her nemore. i think it wuz that day aftah u got home frum workin’ ur shift @lilliput’s & hadda get sum homework done & ur mom sed u hadda take care of merrie & robin 4 her, while she went 2 the pastry store 4 a resupply & how she wud only be gone a couple of minutes & she wuz gone 4 2 hours & then wen u asked 4 a baby-sitting fee, she sed sumthin’ ‘bout how grandparents do baby-sitting 4 free, cuz their grandchildren r gifts.

    i guess ur bro & sil don’t rilly have that perspective on thingz u get frum livin’ w/sum1. so…i dunno ‘bout u, but i think i pulled sumthin’ doin’ the stuff w/the hoverin’ ottoman last nite. i luvved that ottoman, but i think u & i r gonna hafta stick w/standard non-moving furniture snugglin’ wen we r watchin’ the stanley cup finals 2nite. also, i think i left sum of my clothin’ on ur ceilin’ last nite. cud u check?

     
  • At 11:33 AM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    hey, jeremy, i found yr lost, erm, item, on the ceiling fan. i will return it 2 u when i come over 4 hockey watching 2nite.

    yeah, mike totally gets a skewed view of how mom is w/the grandkiddles. if he really knew, mayB he'd bring ME sum flowers. nah, what m i saying, he'll never give me flowers. or respect.

    apes

     
  • At 11:56 AM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    Your brother’s story reminded me of a story my wife Beatrice told me from a time recently when you mother was in Lilliput’s, which she used to own and where Beatrice works. This is the conversation as best Beatrice can remember it:

    Moira Kinney: Elly, what a surprise to see you? Are you here to inspect the store, or just have coffee with the people who like to have coffee with you?
    Elly: None of the above. I have a story to tell you.
    Beatrice Alfarero: Oh goody! Is it a story about how wonderful you are?
    Elly: Is there any other kind?
    Moira Kinney: Not since I’ve known you. What’s the story, Elly?
    Elly: The other day, my son and my daughter-in-law went to Toronto to visit some friends of theirs, and I agreed to baby-sit for them. Then when they came back to my house, to pick up the kids, I could hear them talking about me. They said, “I can’t imagine what we’d do without her.” and “A lot less, that’s for sure.” It was such high praise.
    Beatrice Alfarero: It sounds like one of them doesn’t have much imagination and the other one does.
    Elly: I suppose that’s one way of looking at it, Beatrice. But the important part was they couldn’t do without me. And to prove it they gave me flowers.
    Moira Kinney: That was sweet of them. Do they normally do that when you baby-sit?
    Elly: Well, this is the only time I have baby-sit with the kids at night since they have moved to Milborough, so I don’t know. It could establish precedence. I will have to check and see if I get flowers the next time.
    Beatrice Alfarero: The only time you have baby-sit with the kids at night? What do you mean?
    Elly: There were two other times, but they were during the day time.
    Beatrice Alfarero: They lived down the road from you for almost a year, and you have baby-sit for them only 3 times. So, who normally babysits at night for them?
    Elly: Hum! I think I know the answer to that. It’s someone I know. The name is on the tip of my tongue.
    Moira Kinney: I think it’s April, dear.
    Elly: No. It’s May. You get so confused about the month of the year, Moira.
    Beatrice Alfarero: Your daughter, April.
    Elly: My daughter April. That’s unlikely. She’s too busy doing homework to even come to dinner on time.
    Moira Kinney: Well, perhaps you should get on with your story and you can remember the name some other time.
    Elly: True. Well, Michael and Deanna gave me flowers and they picked up their children. I looked at them and thought, “Grandchildren: The gifts that keep on giving.”
    Moira Kinney: Such a sweet thing to think. Perhaps you can tell me what it means.
    Elly: Isn’t it obvious?
    Moira Kinney: It sounds like you think your grandchildren are a gift, and you get a certain amount of happiness from getting that gift initially, but then you keep getting that happiness later on. And this compares to a moment when you have received flowers and your children are taking your grandchildren away from you. If I were to go for the obvious, Elly, it would make it seem like you consider it a gift from your grandchildren that you got flowers and they were being taken away.
    Elly: Well, you did understand it, after all. Good for you.
    Moira Kinney: Elly, dear, that makes you seem like a grandmother who doesn’t like her grandchildren, but does like getting flowers. Surely, that’s not what you mean?
    Elly: Why wouldn’t it be?
    Moira Kinney: Well, um, er, Beatrice, do you have anything to add?
    Beatrice Alfarero: Grandmothers who prefer flowers to grandchildren are generally considered to be awful grandmothers in most countries.
    Elly: Well, it’s a good thing we live in a civilized country like Canada. I know you came from Argentina and got your education in the States, Beatrice; but things are different here. We are not nearly as barbaric. Especially our grandmothers.
    Beatrice Alfarero: Moira, I think I need to go to the back room and kick some boxes before I kick someone else.
    Moira Kinney: You go do that, Beatrice, dear. That was a lovely story Elly. I especially like the last part with the phrase about grandchildren. It conveys a simple truth for simple people. You have it but you don’t have it. If you miss it, it misses you.
    Elly: Exactly. It’s so nice talking to you, Moira. You always seem to know just what I am saying. Oh, there’s my coffee talk people. I can’t wait to get a cuppa compliments.

    And that’s how Beatrice remembers the conversation she heard, before she kicked some boxes.

    Love,
    Howard Bunt

     
  • At 11:59 AM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. We have been through this before. When you are married and have children, then you get respect. For flowers, you have to be a grandmother. It's on page 147 of the Johnston Institute for Better Living's Guidelines to Being a Patterson.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 2:01 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    howard, that ticks me off. how can my mom 4get that i m usually the 1 who babysit's mike's kids. ::grumble::

    apes

     
  • At 2:42 AM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. After spending time with my mother and her dogs, my children were pestering me about getting birds for a new pet, since they have grown tired of their rabbit and the rabbit has learned how to hide where my kids can't find it. However, I had to refuse them. When they asked why, I said to them, "After I tell you this story, you will completely understand why." My children groaned and moaned about it, but eventually they relented by listening to my story. This is what it was:

    Years ago, I and my friend Lawrence Poirier used to spend hours together outside, playing in the grass with no shoes on. On one of these days, I decided to make a bird trap. Lawrence was confused by this and I said, "Whatsa matter? You nevah seen a bird trap, before?”

    I explained, “To make a good bird trap, Lawrence…ya start with a lasso and then ya disguise it with dirt…” and as I was saying this, I took the lasso I had made and started uprooting dirt from the ground to cover the lasso. This way, instead of looking like a lasso on the ground, it looked like an intoxicated mole had been in the area. This was a common problem in Milborough and so the birds would find it completely normal.

    Then I said, “For bait, you get a bunch of ol’ bread crumbs an’ a couple a defunct worms…” I pointed to the bait I had gotten from mom’s kitchen when she made bread that time, and a couple of worms ate it and almost immediately died. As I was showing this part of the presentation, Lawrence’s eyes got very big. I think it had something to do with the fact that my mom had given his mom some of that bread.

    I got on the other side of that lasso, holding it in my hand, and hiding behind a tree. I said, “—Now we just wait.” Lawrence on the other side of the tree, also hiding out, and he said, “Do we have to wait long?” Already his patience has been waning and we just started.

    We waited and waited and waited and waited, until the sun started to go down and put shadows on the other side of the tree where we were waiting. Lawrence said, “We’ve been waitin’—an’ waiting an’ waiting, Michael…when are we gonna catch something?” My initial thought was to let Lawrence know it had been 4 waits and not the 3 he mentioned. Clearly he missed a wait. However, I decided not to respond.

    It grew dark and still I waited. Lawrence started to fall asleep. Then his mother got him and said, “Lawrence Poirier. Where have you been?” Then Lawrence told his mom about the bird trap. She said, “Why would you ever want to trap a wild bird in a bird trap?” Lawrence didn’t have a good answer for that one. His mom took him home, leaving me alone with the bird trap.

    It grew even darker, and finally I cried out to the birds, DUMB BIRDS!” to express my angst over the whole situation. And that, I said to my children, is why we will not be getting any birds for pets.


    After hearing my plaintive story of my past with birds, my kids said, “Where’s mommy?” And they went off to talk to her about something.

    These kids today don’t have the stamina that Lawrence and I did.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

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