Domingo Delicioso #22Posted: October 28, 2007
So yesterday, I pull up to the free air pump at United Market to air up the tire with a slow leak on my PT at the same time a black pick up truck with his own low tire does the same. “Oh, great,” I mutter, thinking ‘No way buddy, I got here first.’ Well, shame on me!
This guy about my age and his dad hopped out of the truck and proceeded to air up my low tire first. I was so flabbergasted and all girly about having this chivalrous act directed my way that I started chatting and saying thank you, and when we got to talking and kidding around, it took both me and the guy a minute to discover that my tire was getting lower instead of airing up. The dad grinned and leaned over to press a button. Oh. Neither one of us had pushed the button to get the compressor started! How silly!
But it was such a nice thing for them to do. I haven’t seen a lot of it these days, these random acts of kindness. Much less chivalry. Earlier in the day, some old fart pulled out of a parking space going forward through the empty space in front of him instead of backing out, and when I honked at him to say, ‘Hey, I’m driving here,’ I was rewarded with an extremely rude gesture. So the scene at the market really made up for that.
You know, I LIKE to see and experience nice things like that. I like having doors opened for me, and other deferments made for women by men. I think it’s romantic. Just little gestures like that. Old school chivalry. I take advantage of the rights other women have fought for on behalf of our gender, and I certainly don’t take to being bossed around or treated in a demeaning manner. But nice, romantic, or kind amenities, I really like. Luckily, I have Mr. Man, who does things like this for me. Umm…most of the time. 🙂 And I try to do nice little things for him, too. Things to make him laugh, or smile, or feel appreciated for how hard he works. I know sometimes I slip and could be nicer, but we all have our moments.
That glow lasted until I got home. The Terrible Twosome had managed to make an unholy mess in the house, and I liked to scorch their ears and mine too with the things I had to say to them. They probably heard me all the way in Randall County. By the time Mr. Man called me my left eye twitched like mad.
Granny is still in the hospital. I tell you, she’s fighting this illness like a trooper. At her age, though, it makes me apprehensive. I’m learning a lot though. Like last night, one of the elderly men across the hall from her thought his catheter was a bomb, so he diffused it. Yikes. And ouch.
I’ve also learned that having an elderly relative in a hospital situation for as long as we have now is kind of like being pregnant. You know how people are always in a rush to tell expecting mothers all the horror stories of their pregnancies and labor? Well, I’ve had people telling me things too, in relation to Granny’s current situation. One friend, who is a nurse, told me that the condition Granny has is the most common cause of death in elderly people. My friend just wants me to have the benefit of her knowledge, I know that. And for as long as I’ve known her, I know that she has a forthright method of delivery. She also knows that I wish I’d faced the facts about my Dad’s illness before he died. So see, she was being a good friend. But still…
Then my MIL told me today that someone told her something she didn’t want to hear when she had HER mom in a nursing home, and now she was telling me: Maybe Granny is ready. You know. And is willing it to happen. So, I wondered (but not out loud this time), if you didn’t want to hear it then , what makes you think I wanted to hear it now?
I had a dream the night before Granny was taken to the hospital. My Papa (grandfather) was in it, smiling, and happy, and in their old home. The one Mr. Man and I live in now, except in my dream it was the way it was when I was a child coming to visit here. It was the first time I’d dreamed of my Papa in YEARS.
I’m feeling like I’m waiting on another precipice of change. In many different areas. With Granny’s illness. With the upcoming holidays, and a situation on Mr. Man’s side of the family which might cause how we celebrate to be different. No to mention how Granny’s illness might figure in. And the fact that Brother and his family live so far away.
And I might be changing careers. But I guess I need to leave thoughts on that for an upcoming post.
Didn’t I mention once that I’m not to good with change sometimes?
Mr. Man and I went to a Halloween party Saturday night. His friend has it every year, and no matter how much I grumble, or think I’m not in the mood to go, I always end up having a good time. M___ always decorates the place up in a haunted house fashion, and it’s so cool. Usually, he has Jell-O shots…as a matter of fact, the first year we went, he had Jell-O shots. The next year, his brother had a new baby…evidently the direct result of indulging in these little man made miracles. So it’s been kind of a joke with us that maybe all we need for our fertility issues is a few Jell-O shots of our own! That little baby is two now, and at the party, I told Mr. Man that she was the cutest Jell-O shot I’d ever seen. Our friend Scout promises us he’ll make us some Jell-O shots when he comes home from Iraq, and for extra measure, he’ll bring some Tequila too. 🙂
I met one of Mr. Man’s new co-workers tonight. He and his pretty little wife were there, and in the course of conversation, the kid said, “K____ and I married when we were young–”
“Wait, wait,” I said, examining his baby face, “How old are you now?”
“Well, I’m 24 and she’s 20-something-or-other…”(By this time my mind was racing and I didn’t hear the rest.)
“Oh-my-gosh!” I turned to Mr. Man. “Technically, these two could be our children! Do you realize that? And they have a baby! We could be grandparents! Can you believe this?”
Mr. Man’s eyes crinkled up in the corner in the adorable way that they do when he’s amused (Think Jack Bauer. They resemble enough they could be brothers. Not twins, but brothers.) “Yeah.” (He’s also a man of few words.)
“My Mom’s 44,” the kid said.
So, the rest of the night, I visited with these kids, trying to imagine if I had a son that age, what it might be like.
And where the heck was my grandbaby?! Why’s they leave him with a sitter? 🙂 **ha-ha**
Well, more than enough from me, and on to more interesting folks:
If I see a gardener using a blower, I think I’ll tackle him.
Thank God you and your loved ones escaped the wrath of the fires, Bonnie! Still, it sounds like you have a lot of ashes to clean up!
If you’ve been following along, you know that while my daughter, Virginia, is extremely bright, she has the attention span of a twinkie and the energy of a meth addict.
Oh, Crystal, I just found your blog, and I LOVE your writing! You are HILARIOUS!
The pleasure in the little splurges does not outweigh the pleasure I get in seeing that number be lower every week.
Lady Shanny, that’s a quote I need to remember! You’re doing GREAT!
Wheeee, the insanity train is now boarding.
Kristin, I’m SOOO glad your back! And your son’s writing IS wonderful!
It’s clean, it’s twisted, it’s funny, it’s exciting…everything you’d expect groovy ole me to enjoy and espouse.
Groovy! You’re having too much fun over there! Nah, on second thought. You deserve every bit of it!
He is a jerk. He was a jerk from the beginning, and I don’t expect that to change.
I hate people like that, Ms. Karen! I’ve had to deal with more than my share of THOSE kind of people.
And just recently, 3:10 to Yuma. If anything revived the Western, this movie was it. Everything you could want.
Cindy, get me started on 3:10 to Yuma and I’ll never shut up! Ben Wade made that movie for me. LOVED IT! Usually, endings like that disappoint me, but because of Ben Wade, it couldn’t have ended as satisfying any other way. And the John Wayne, especially the “Rio” movies–I almost ALWAYS stop flipping channels when I see one of those on TV. I WANT MORE WESTERNS TOO!
How do you feel about holiday-themed books? Do you like to read them?
I LOVE holiday-themed books, Sylvia. You’re right…there need to be more set around Halloween. My best romance happened at Halloween 24 years ago–I met my husband while working in a High School haunted house! Of course, I can also say I met him at a brothel…the old condemned house we used for the fundraiser had been known as one of our town’s old bawdy houses….
The clouds were heavy all day. Foreboding. Like they wanted to rain but couldn’t. They drooped black on the underside like a toddler with a load in his Pampers.
Ahhh, Corn Dog’s back,too! All is right with the world! Quit robbing banks, would ya? *grin* Especially if you are using a bus as your getaway car.
As my bruises turn from pink to purple and green I think about the nature of worry. There’s a lot to worry about, let’s face it; once you begin you realise the list of worries is almost endless, so perhaps it’s best not to begin at all.
Wow, Selma. And I thought I was bad. That poor lady is in a prison of sorts, don’t you think? Poor Leo.
For all of you preparing for NaNoWriMo, good luck and God speed!