Saturday, February 10, 2007

Children's Song


I had another Weeble run this time for a doctor's appointment for the two of them. I sailed down the Pike in good spirits as there wasn't much traffic. It would be an easy run today. The doctor would check heart and monitor blood pressure. Both appointments wouldn't take long. We'd be in and I'd be out to get back to my own work.

The front door is bolted as if it was the entrance to Fort Knox so I rang the bell. I heard the click and scrape of the locks as bolts were slid free. Dad opened the door. He was fully dressed which was a good sign.

"The doctor cancelled our appointment," he said. "I tried to call but the girl said you had already left."

I spoke in tongues. One has to give a doctor 24 hour notice of cancellation, otherwise, one is billed for the missed appointment. Well, nothing to be done but have a fast cup of tea and bolt, or so I thought.

"She has other plans for you today." Dad smiled elfishly.

More phrases. "Don't tell me. She wants to go to...."

"Market Basket."

I could hear Himself "Help me, Lord" but that's not what I said. "I thought your friend took you."

"She did. Yesterday. But Ma didn't finish her shopping."

As if on cue, Ma made her appearance. "I didn't get the fruits and vegetables. His friend wasn't feeling well, and she had us paged!"

Light dawned. It was colder than a witch's.....well, it was pretty darn cold that day. The poor woman must have succumbed to hyperthermia waiting the three hours in the car for the Weebles to totter around the store.

Dad was putting the kettle on to make tea.

"Don't bother, I said. If she wants to go to Market Basket, there's no time for tea now." So began the shuffle to get them out of the house. Just when you think you have both of them going in the same direction, one turns around and goes in the opposite direction. Herding cats is easier.

The parking lot to the store is packed, and all the handicap spots are filled. I offload the Weebles at the front door. Dad leaves me the handicap placard and I'm left to happily troll the parking lot for a handicap space. I settle into a space at the far end of the lot where I have a clear view of the front door and 6 handicap spots. I settle in with a book. I always carry a book to read for the times I have to wait, doctor's offices, Young Ones getting out of school or work. I don't mind waiting. Beats the hell out of administering sacraments to meat and veggies.

I look up and see a space available. Start the car and as I head down the lane, another Weeble careens around the corner and slips into the space. I go back to my spot and wait. I look up and an enormous monster truck has pulled along side of me. I no longer have a clear view to the front door and the handicap spots. I can't even see the building the truck is so large. I mutter some choice phrases and then move to another location.

More reading and more looking up. A spot had been available and another Weeble slipped into it. Another phrase. I'd have to watch more and read less. Shortly after, I see some Weebles coming out of the store, and they are heading to a handicap spot. I start the ignition and rev the engine. As they pull out, I head down the lane and neatly slide into the space. I'm insufferably pleased with myself. It's a grown up version of musical chairs, and I won. All around the cobbler's bench the monkey chased the weasel. The monkey thought it was all in fun. Pop, goes the weasel!

3 comments:

Erica Vetsch said...

You absolutely SLAY me! Nothing ever goes as planned with the Weebles.

Nutter said...

I'm laughing at the image of you stalking poor unsuspecting disabled people... You're going to get a reputation at the Market Basket. They'll ban you and then... *grin*
I can send Hans out for herding detail if you think it would help. He's quite good. You should see him with a yard of kids. He hasn't lost one yet.

Donna Alice said...

It's like having more than one toddler going in the same direction. You never know when they will dart off and you'll be outnumbered!
And I'm waiting for someone to see you sprinting for the handicap parking slot and wonder how handicapped YOU really are!