Sunday, January 21, 2007

Some Days It Just Doesn't Pay....


There are days, and then there are days. Friday was one of those days. Friday began earlier in the week with a phone call from Dad. Ma's shoes were in. Dad called to tell me she had an appointment for a fitting on Friday at 10am. Good! Himself offered to keep me company. Even better!

Himself took the Youngest to school at 7:45am. At 8:40, we dropped the Oldest at her cube farm, and then hopped on the Pike. Traffic moved steadily and at a good clip inspite of some light snow. We made excellent time and arrived at the Weebles at 9:30am.


Their driveway had an inch or so of slush on it. Himself found a shovel and began pushing the slush off the driveway while I went in to announce the arrival of the elder bus.


Dad greeted me at the door, trousers, undershirt, no socks. This was not a good sign. Weebles not ready. The bathroom door banged open. Another bad sign. Ma came out in her robe with a towel turbaned on her head. "You didn't tell me you were coming!" she screamed. She stormed off to her bedroom muttering things in Italian that would have gotten my mouth washed out with soap. I looked at Dad, and he shrugged.


"Didn't you tell her the appointment was today?"


"I told her! She says I didn't tell her."


Oh, boy. I made the mistake of going into her room to see if she needed help getting dressed. She pounced on me. "I fell," she said "My hip feels like the bone is out of place."


I knew she must have given herself a good bang, but if her hip was dislocated she'd be in excrutiating pain and unable to move. "Why didn't you call the doctor?"


"Because NO ONE WOULD TAKE ME!"


"You know that's not true." I tried not to look to the heavens in exasperation.


"You didn't call to take me."


"I'm not a mind reader!"


"I wasn't told you were coming today until this morning!"


"Look that's not my fault! I'm just the #%^&*#! bus driver!" Some days it just doesn't pay to gnaw through the straps. I went outside to warn Himself and to watch him finish the driveway. We went inside. I thought I would hurry things along as it was just past the appointment. I got Ma's pockabook. Hunted around the livingroom for her check book. Another battle erupted over which walker Ma was going to take, the tall one or the short one. After the brouhaha settled down and the walker decision had been made, we were able to load Weebles into the car.


Himself has his own way to get to the hospital where the podiatrist's office is located. Ma turned toward him and started to open her mouth. Nothing came out. I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh. She so wanted to yell that Himself was going the wrong way!


Himself pulled up to the front door, and Weebles were offloaded. Himself took Ma's handicap placard and went to find a space and peace as he would wait in the car. I didn't begrudge him, but wished I could figure out a reason why I couldn't stay with him.


Ma sputtered into the building. Yelled at Dad because he didn't push the button for the elevator. The "down" indicator on both elevators was lit so there was no need as both were headed to the lobby. We got in one elevator and rode up to the third floor. We were a good 20 mins. past the official appointment time.


Ma was still mumbling as we entered the office. Fortunately, there were no other Weebles in the waiting room. The little bit of snow had kept other weebles home. The receptionist escorted Ma to the shoe room. Ma was griping very loudly, Dad asked the receptionist for the key to the lavatory and bolted out of the office and down the hall. I started to sing, "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day in the neighborhood..." The receptionist started to laugh.


The doctor arrived and the griping stopped as the shoe fitting took place. "Oh these are wonderful. Oh these look nice." The doctor escorted Ma back to the waiting room. "You are so wonderful," she said to the doctor. "I don't know what I would do without you!"


"Oh, so your the golden child today", I said to the doctor.


"I guess so."


I so desperately wanted to say, "Good, you can take her home!"



4 comments:

Erica Vetsch said...

ROFLOLOLOLOLOL!!! You slay me!

Nutter said...

So, Ma's hip is bruised but she's ok? I admit, I'm feeling sympathy only because my own pre-weeble is in the hospital now. Perspective is a bit altered. However, I'd SCREAM if my weeble kept his mouth shut for others and not me. I love your maweeble cursing and you're still a very very good daughter. Remember, we only hurt the ones we love. *grin*

Ramblin Regina said...

Just stopped in to say Howdy to a fellow Heath lover. They don't make 'em like him anymore, do they?
Of course, Nick and Jarrod were nothing to sneeze at either. :)

Donna Alice said...

I can sooooooooo relate to this! My talents don't run to mind reading either--but it sure would help in the weeble department huh?

You're probably a good daughter, most of the time...LOL