It Never Gets Old

Sister C and her husband came over with their four kids to help us celebrate the 4th of July.  We didn’t do anything outrageous… we grilled some burgers and dogs, ate some cupcakes that were homemade by Kid B, drank some wine and fired up a few amateur sparklers in the light rain that has been falling on us for well over a week now.  We are missing our Kid A, who has been away for two out of an overall four weeks, but we had a really fun time together nevertheless.  God Bless America.

Actual warning on sparklers: "Flamable.  Do Not Put in Mouth."

Actual warning on sparklers: “Flamable. Do Not Put in Mouth.”

Somewhere in the middle of putting out dinner I realized that we were dangerously low on ketchup.  And I had no back-ups anywhere.  As far as Sheepdog is concerned, this is an unforgivable offense.  We are allowed to run out of toilet paper in this house before we are allowed to run out of ketchup according to him.  I think ketchup is vile, so I wanted to tell him to squeeze a tomato and some sugar on his tots and deal with it.  Sister C’s husband had already made a last minute run to the store for 17 kinds of Triscuits and the aforementioned sparkle wands, so nobody was going anywhere else in the middle of the meal.  It’s not like we ran out of alcohol, for goodness’ sake.

I promised Sheepdog that I would get more ketchup (and a few spares, just to make him feel safe) the next day when I went on a regular grocery run.  I had a few other things I was running low on anyway.  I asked Sister C to start a new list for me so I would not forget.  The next morning I thought of some more things that we needed, so I just added them to the list.  This went on throughout the day.

I never actually made it to the store on Friday (I made sure not to serve anything that would require ketchup, lest Sheepdog have an aneurism), but sometime over the weekend I had occasion to go out.  In the middle of the produce aisle I pulled the paper from my purse and I began reading over it to make sure there was nothing else I needed to add when I noticed Sister C’s special request.  I burst out laughing and then I remembered that we also needed yogurt.

grocery list

Having sisters is awesome.  I sure do love mine.

Wish me luck for tomorrow…

Who’s Calling?

Last weekend was high co-pay, medically speaking, for my extended family.  Pregnant Sister C had a fever of 102 degrees and had to go to the hospital.  Long story made short… she must have caught a virus, but mama and the baby are doing very well now.  Meanwhile, in New Jersey my dad apparently started exhibiting symptoms of a partially detached retina (floaters, flashes of light, heaviness of the eye, a sudden urge to come out of retirement and fight Marvelous Marvin Hagler) and had to go up to Wills Eye Emergency Room in Philadelphia to get it lasered.  He ended up having to go back for problems and follow-ups several times over this past week.  But you don’t screw around with a medical emergency that can leave you blind, so back and forth he and my mom went.

My dad is kind of a hard man to reach (both literally and figuratively, but that’s a whole different story…).  He does not like to talk on the phone.  He doesn’t even carry his cell with him; he leaves it in his car for emergencies.  When he is at the office he is usually all business, so I hesitate to call him there for fear of interrupting.  But when I haven’t spoken to him in a while and I want to check in with him on the phone in person (and not third party through my mom while he yells stuff in the background), I call him at work.  So the other day while I was driving the Mom Shuttle around town I decided to take my chances so I put on my bluetooth and I dialed his office number.

Receptionist:  Good afternoon, Weiss & Paarz, how may I help you?

Me:  Hi.  May I speak to Bob Paarz, please?

Receptionist:  May I ask who’s calling?

Me:  Sure.  This is Stacy, his daughter.  No, wait!  I’m actually his favorite daughter.  Don’t tell him my name.  Would you please just announce me as “your favorite daughter?”  That would be really fun.

Receptionist: (either scared to death for fear of pissing off her boss or suppressing giggles because she likes my idea, I can’t tell which) Sigh.  Please hold.

My dad:  (tentatively) Hello?

Me: (using a fabulously disguised voice)  Hello!  How are you?

My dad (still tentative, but laughing at me) I’m good.  How are you? (he still obviously has no idea which daughter I am)

Me: (ramping up the fabulousness of my disguised voice and having to suppress my own fits of laughter at the same time) I’m good, but I was worried about you.  Sounds like you had a rough week.

My dad: (continuing to make small talk to figure out who his “favorite” daughter is) Blah. blah, blah.

Me: (escalating the voice to a cartoonish level and decibel, at which point I break character and can’t stop laughing) That was fun!  Sometimes I crack myself up.

My dad:  You’re an idiot.

Jack Bauer: Chloe, I need those schematics now! Bart: Who is this? Jack: I'm Jack Bauer - who the hell are you? Bart: Me? I'm, uh, Ahmed Adoudi. Jack: Chloe, find out all you can about Ahmed Adoudi. Does anyone there know "I made a doodie"? Chloe: Ahmed Adoudi - wealthy Saudi financier. Disappeared into Afghanistan in the late '90s. Jack: Really? Chloe: No, Jack, it's a joke name. You're being set up! Jack: Damn it!

At least I got to talk to my daddy.  So it was a very good day.

Wish me luck for the weekend…