There's no place like \
"Daddy," she said, "Guess who I saw today?!" She says this with this Southern accent that has always driven me to distraction - it makes me smile, coming out of her mouth.
"Why, I don't know, Precious." Her real name is Kristina. Kristina Elizabeth when she's done something wrong. "Who?"
She says,"No,Daddy, you gotta guess!"
Well, at this point, we're strapped in, driving down the road, so -what better way to spent the 7 minute drive to the house than to play an impromptu guessing game with an 8 year old. I round up all the usual suspects, Grandma, Grandpa, people she knows from the neighborhood and move on to less probable entities like the Easter bunny, Elsie the Cow (the Borden icon, ) and on, and on. With each increasingly improbable suggestion she giggles harder and harder. I realize suddenly that she has to pee, and tell her as soon as we get home to run to the bathroom.
Well! We get home, get her and the groceries out of the car, all the while playing this guessing game. When we get in the house, I remind her about the bathroom. She doesn't need reminding, because at this point she's doing the pee-pee dance, and says, "No, Daddy! Not til you guess!"
"Ah, honey," I say, "I give up! Who did you see today?"
With a grin that's halfway between and a grimace, doing the pee-pee dance, with, at this point, her hands between her legs, she looks me right in the eyes and says, "Everybody. I. looked. at."
People, I'll tell you what: Very rarely am I speechless in real life.
I started laughing. Belly laughs that came straight from my soul. So did she.
Then she peed on the kitchen floor.
*shrug* I cleaned it up while she was in the shower.
Wonder where she got that joke from...
Hope this works
When Kristina was 4 or 5, she went to town with her mother. They were food shopping, I'm sure, and Deb had to make a deposit at the bank to put what cash she didn't need into our account. Kristina was in a fussy mood all day and really acted up in line. Deb kept shushing her, escalating to threats of varying degrees of 'privleges' taken away for the next week. Finally Deb couldn't take anymore, reached out, grabbed Kristina by the arm and told her,very quietly," If you don't start behaving this instant, I'm going to have daddy blister your butt when he gets home!"
She said this in a most threatening tone so that Kristina could see that she was serious.
Without batting an eye, Kristina looked up at Deb and said in the same tone of voice,but much louder, "If _you_ don't let go of my arm this instant, I'm telling grandma I saw you kissing daddy's pee-pee last night! "
Well! Y'all know how quiet banks are, right? Deb swears that the tellers stopped counting money, and that every eye was fastened on this little battle of wills. She was next in line. What should she do?
She kept hold of Kristina's arm and marched her to the car.
Deb swears as the doors closed she heard the entire bank(mostly women) erupt into laughter!
I crossed that line again, didn't I?
Perhaps you're new to Opera, and are lost-just keep hitting the "back" button, you'll be fine. There's really not much to see here... read on if you must. Leave a comment if you'd like, peace.
. She wouldn't eat it,either. Hated it, in fact. But she loved him so much, she made it just for him. That and a maple walnut layer cake.
My Mother told me one time that,"Everyone's entitled to their little quirks. Well your Father is mine." Now the 'backdrop' is set.
. Sunday dinner at our house was special. My younger brother, Joe and I would go to Mass with our Father. Mom would stay home and cook.(Mom apparently had a falling out with the Pope, or God and she was determined to wait Them out. Thats a whole other post.) We'd get home, famished, at 2 p.m. and still have an hour before dinner. We sit down and eat, then Dad takes his afternoon nap. He's got a cold and he's snoring. Loudly. Here is where the "fun" starts...
.My Father had a 'partial' set of false teeth - a few molars on top, with barbs on each end to hold them to the other teeth. They were old and loose. Well, he snored so loudly, the teeth became dislodged and fell to the back of his throat at which point he swallowed them! Of course he woke up at this point, confused, I'm sure, and went into the bathroom to try to "bring them up." Well! That didn't work, and my Mom and Dad sat around discussing what he should do. They finally decided that he should go to the hospital because there was no way that they would come out on their own. So he drives himself to the hospital (the incident not being a bonafide emergency, - no blood was coming out of any place it shouldn't-) and the rest of us begin our normal nitetime rituals, this being around 5p.m.
Around 7p.m. the phone rings. It's my Dad. He wants Mom on the phone. She talks to him a half a minute or less, hangs up, tells me to watch my brother,put him to bed, and is gone!
To the hospital! Around 7:30 my Aunt Dee calls ( this is a daily thing. My Mom and Aunt Dee are sisters,and very close.) She asked where my parents were, I told her that daddy had swallowed his plate. She laughed and told me to stop lying, that no one could do that. When it dawned on her that it was his partial, she laughed even harder. So, 9:30p.m. rolls around, I've not heard from my parents, my Aunt calls back,truly concerned now. I leave a note for my parents to call my Aunt no matter what time it is and I go to bed, secure in the knowledge that my Mom is" in charge " at the Emergency Room, and nothing 'bad' can happen.
. Boy, was I wrong!
My Mom comes in around 3 a.m. I hear her talking on the phone to my Aunt. The doctors at the e.r. tried to extract the partial. They tried pulling them up,they pushed them back down. Several times.They finally decided to let my Dad rest. He'd been through enough for one day.
So in the next two days he went through several procedures to try and remove the errant teeth... awake and under general anethsesia, none of which were successful. The good doctors at BMMC (then BMH) were stumped. They even called Bellvue, a hospital at that time, run by the City of New York. Bellvues patients were mainly indigent.Drug addicts and drunks made up a large part of its 'clients'. Drunks have been known to swallow their false teeth. Nope, no luck there.
Well, with all of the pushing and pulling of the teeth, the doctors had left small holes in both esophogus and trachea, which led to peritonitis- an infection in the abdominal cavity. Very nasty, and hard to cure. They finally realized the only way to get the teeth out was to do a reversable colostomy, after they took care of the peritonitis. They put drains in his chest and back, to allow fluid to exit his chest and waited until he was strong enough for the ostomy surgery.
Because of the infection, they had to feed him I.V. _nothing_ by mouth, until the infection was gone and the teeth were out.
Did I mention that my Dad loved to eat?
.Well,my parents argued with the Docs, they let him go back on solid food after the infection cleared up and the teeth were out. And let him come home to regain his strength before reversing the colostomy. Once again to the hospital, post op recovery and such. When he was finally released from the doctors care my Mom brought him home and laid on a meal usually reserved for major holidays! I can still see him sitting at the dining room table, as my Mom pulls a surprise from her pocketbook. It was his partial! She started laughing as he fondled the now unusable plate, and put a set of chattering teeth on the table,too, aiming them straight for him!
His only response was,"Frances, I am not amused." Totally deadpan. This,of course, made my Mom laugh even harder, and she had to go pee...
hey..whats up? long time since we talked :P
Check your emails and my last blog post!
Hey, Mira! How are you?
Hey waiting on an email from ya......