One of the interesting things about getting older (there are so many) is recognizing you are still learning stuff about things you thought were behind you. Like parenting (not that it's ever really behind you). Even when your kids are grown up and gone, you watch people around you and you learn and it's just so interesting, yes? But then, isn't that what life is all about . . . learning as you go and suddenly finding yourself in someone elses' shoes? And then you get it. You understand. Usually you're standing in your parents' shoes. Lesson.
Speaking about parenting, a couple of weeks ago my Dad tried to give me $5,000. For the dentist. At lunch. It was sweet and it amused me (after tearing up), and then I remembered. I'm 54. I need to pay my own dentist bills. It's time. He also handed me a fortune from a cookie he opened on one of our regular Tuesday lunches. It said, "You will be called upon to help a friend." I'm saving it. He still wants to do everything he can for me. Lesson.
A couple of weeks ago I was bawling in Rachel's Kitchen. See paragraph two. Also, just to add to the mix . . . steroids are the devil. I know it looks as if there was no segue there, but there was. They make you cry. And worse. Recognizing there are people who regularly have to take that devil of a medication makes me count my ever loving blessings. I am not exaggerating for emphasis.
Yesterday I had 12 rolls of Christmas wrapping paper delivered to the house. Yes, they were 90% off (and beautiful) and I only paid a dollar for each roll . . . but I'll be dead before I use all that wrapping paper. I am not sure what I was thinking. Also, my spouse look confused.
I hate to jinx myself, but my final dentist appointment is Thursday. Once again, they are knocking me out. It seems they really want to spend no "awake time" with me whatsoever and, frankly, I don't blame them. I'm really not fun when I'm there. This time they prescribed drugs for the TWO DAYS BEFORE, if that's any clue. They don't want to even spend unsedated time with me for the 15 minutes I remain Patti when I get there. Whatever.
When your Bishop calls you on a Thursday night at close to 10 o'clock and starts out the conversation with: "Patti, please forgive me for what I'm about to ask you to do . . . ", well, suddenly, being asked to speak in Church just isn't that big of a deal. Even if the topic happens to be modesty.
There's a Kid Rock song I love, much to my husband's dismay. It gets stuck in my head and I can't stop thinking about it. Or singing it. I love it. And yes, I'm appropriately embarrassed.
I was bored in Iron Man (even though I liked Gwyneth's clothes) but it was our FHE . . . I really had to stay in the theatre. Another time I compromised about seeing some scary movie and we happened to be at Rave in Town Square. Awesome digital theatres there. When the heart palpitations became unmanageable I just excused myself and went to Sephora. Was that wrong? This time I thought it'd be rude to excuse myself because, after all, it was Monday night. But oh I was tempted. I should mention we were the only ones in the theatre.
No segue (or is there) . . .
Fathers' Day is approaching and I'm thinking about things my Dad has taught me. Once I came home from Lynne Wholey's house and pronounced her parents weird . . . all because her Dad came home from the office and didn't kiss her Mom. My Dad said, "Everyone is weird except for you and me, Patti, and I'm not too sure about you." I like to repeat that when I see someone making the same mistake I did, or sometimes, just to lighten the conversation. There's a lot of wisdom in that one little sentence.
My favorite gift from my Dad ever was what he taught me about work ethic. It turned out to be the most valuable gift he ever gave me, too. His example of hard work was right there for us to see, whether in his job or volunteering at the parish bingo games. In more than 35 years of working at IBM I saw my Dad call in sick ONE day, with the exception of a few days he needed to be at home following a surgical procedure on his knee. He gave that to me and I am forever indebted to him.
For the record, I'm glad he's around for so many reasons, but this week because we were able to have lunch and laugh ourselves silly about a conversation I regularly had with my Mother - just to bait her and make her laugh uncontrollably. I would set her up every time (about once a year)and she would just forget we ever had that conversation before. Or would she?