Friday, June 22, 2007

Painting the Roses Red

Tuesday, the last day of the trifecta. The Weebles would be running out of milk. Ma would make Dad walk to the store to buy the milk. Too humid for a healthy, young person to walk a few miles, let alone an 88 year old man with heart problems. Though Ma knows she is 88 years old, she somehow thinks Dad is still in his forties and in good health. So, I stopped to pick up a gallon of milk to save Dad the walk. I also stopped so I wouldn’t be roped into a trip to Market Basket for a lousy gallon of milk.

Were they happy I brought the milk? I might as well have brought them magic beans.

“What’s that?” Dad asked.


“What did you do that for!”

“To save you a walk!”

See Dad would like nothing better than to be running out for milk per Ma’s order and to drop dead in the middle of the road. Freedom for him with a helping of guilt for the rest of us.

“How much did you pay?” Ma asked.


“You paid too much!”

“Well, if you people learned to drink 1% milk you could get a gallon cheaper!”

“I don’t like 1%. It’s watery.”

As if she could tell. She has a bit with her cereal for breakfast, and the rest is used in coffee. Ma was put out because there wasn’t going to be a quick dash for the milk after the visit to the foot doctor.

“Chalk one up for Herself,” I though smugly. I can play the game too.

Ma started to pick on Dad again about the blood and urine tests. She had the urine sample, but we’d have to drop it off at the doctor’s office.

“No, problem. I’ll take it with me and drop it off on my way home.” I go right by the doctor’s office.

Off to the foot doctor we go. The hospital medical building where his office is located must have been running a sale. There were no parking spaces available, let alone the handicap space. I offloaded the Weebles in front of the building and trolled for a parking space. I even went to the main hospital lot and that was filled! After a few circuits, I finally got a handicap space in front of the main entrance to the hospital. A primo space, but on the other side of the building and too far for Ma to walk. I no sooner got up to the doctor’s office when she came out. So I told them to wait in the lobby and I’d bring the car around.

I’m heading for their house when Ma announced I had to go to the other doctor’s office to drop off the specimen. She had it in her handbag. Punishment for bringing the milk is a different Toonerville Trolley run.

“I told you I’d take it with me when I went home. I go by this building.”

Ma crossed her arms across her ample chest. “I thought I was saving you a trip and doing you a favor.”

“No, this is now an extra trip.”

She sighed deeply. “I don’t give the orders, I just take them.”

And I'm painting the roses red.


Erica Vetsch said...

LOLOLOL! You always find the perfect line.

Donna Alice said...

This is what happens when you start more than one blog. I've been reading The Compost Heap and forgot about this one. Just spent several minutes getting caught up in the "How the Weebles Turn" saga.

That picture is priceless! Tell me, are those your action figures? Also have to say it's a wonder you lived to tell the tale considering all the trouble you got into when you were "never left alone." Uh, huh. I never knew you were a Jenny to the max.