214
R. Linda:
I would have passed out from the sheer exertion of getting pissed off about me blankie. But the phone rang, and I thought for a quick instant, good, as soon as she gets up to answer it -- I'll grab the blankie. ONLY that didn't happen. With a cookie bit halfway to her mouth, she says, "Aren't YOU going to answer that?"
Oh, for sure! So I dragged meself up groaning from a churning stomach, only to get some recording telling me to hold "For an important message from Dr. Ron Paul," at which I hung up, more like slammed the receiver down, and lurched across the room to the kitchen and the hot tea kettle. I got meself down a cup and saucer, put a cube of sugar in, and then lurched to the cupboard to find the tea chest EMPTY! Me dragon-in-law had taken the last of the tea bags!
"What are you doing in there rattling the crockery Gabriel?" She sang out from under the warmth of me precious green blankie, hot steaming tea sitting on her lap.
"What do you think I be doing, you stupid old bat?" I wanted to shout back but refrained. I grumbled under me breath and tore the kitchen cabinets apart in the hope that there was a fresh box of tea someplace left forgot. But no, there was none and so I looked at the coffee maker. But then an instant replay in me mind of vomit splashing into me morning coffee became so overwhelming and vivid, I ended up running for the bathroom as the dry heaves took me over.
I can't remember much after that. I don't want to. I seem to have a vague recollection; I went into the office, rolled meself up in the braided rug and fell asleep on the floor. When I awoke, it was dark, and I could hear voices in the kitchen. The wife, yes, it was Tonya sounding human, and yes, the little Airport was chattering away, and oh yeah, that low roar, SHE was still here and out there with THEM. I could hear her coaxing me son, "Come on now, O'Hare, another bite, and you've finished the nice cherry Jell-O."
JELL-O? Instantly, I was out of the rug and on me wobbly feet. The doctor had said not to feed the wee one any sugar of any kind. That Jell-O could come a day or two after the vomiting and diarrhoea stopped. I tottered into the kitchen to find all of them smiling when suddenly, without warning, the red Jell-O came hurling out of the Airport at both ends. I was horrified as me wife scooped him up and ran for the changing table. I stood there looking at me dragon-in-law. I said quietly that the doctor said no sugar it would make the Airport sick all over again.
"Nonsense, Gabriel," she said, "I gave all my kids Jell-O when they were sick."
I wanted to tear me hair out. No, actually, I wanted to tear hers out. But I refrained as me wife called for me to help her. She didn't call for her mother, no, no, she called ME. Between the two of us, we got the wee child into a warm bath to get cleaned up. I took the dirty laundry, rinsed it out and threw it in the wash, which became me second job. I did more wash than I have ever in all me born days. But not before the dragon-in-law came in and told me I was doing it all wrong.
"You need to presoak Gabriel."
I'd like to presoak someone, I thought to meself, and then drown her.
By the next day, we all seemed on the mend again. I spoke privately with me wife about the Jell-O and to keep the old dragon from reintroducing the stuff a second time. She promised me she would.
I was feeling better about this time, but the dragon lady was getting on me last nerve. I sat in the kitchen thinking how good a fresh cup of hot tea would taste when I noticed me neighbour at the big house ploughing the road. It was snowing. I got on me jeans, and a heavy work shirt and slipped me ice cleats over me heavy boots. I grabbed me jacket, hat and gloves and went down to see if I could talk me neighbour out of a few tea bags, and in return, I'd help him shovel a wee bit.
So down I go, and he was just pulling down to his barn, the roadway between our homes cleared. He knew we were under the weather and invited me into the barn to talk as he piled cow manure onto his front loader. I told him the sad story of me running out of tea, and he said his wife had a couple of boxes, and he'd get one and bring it up. I said for a good deed like that, I'd run his manure out to the field if he wanted to get the box. He agreed and put a bucket with mouldy hay on top of the manure, and I set off with all to dump.
In the swirling snow, I went to the field and dumped the fresh manure. I got down to get the hay bucket and damped that to the side when I noticed one of me ice cleats on me boots was missing and so I looked around and found it on the edge of the cow dung. I fished it out and looked down and noticed the other one was missing, too! I kicked through all that steamy dung looking for it, levelled the manure down pretty much and couldn't find it. I was in a muck sweat and stamped back to the running tractor, cursing up a blue storm, when there it was on the floor of the tractor. And here I be full of manure up to me knees from stamping through it in search. Oi!
I got back, and the old man had quite a laugh at me. We ended up in his little heated room on the side of the barn, laughing like two fools, me sneezing between guffaws. He gave me a box of Tetley Tea and a box of tissues, and off I went for home and comfort. I was so proud of meself, saving the day with a box of tea, but the smile vanished from me face when I walked into the kitchen to find the dragon-in-law feeding me son another vat of red jell-O. Before I could light into her, Tonya stepped in, and the two of them were telling me the little Airport was well enough and there was no harm. And oh my God, what's that smell?
IT WAS ME. I started to explain about the trade-off of tea for dumping manure when suddenly the Airport opened his mouth and stood up, and you guessed it, both ends at once.
"It was the smell of you, Gabriel, that set the poor kid off," the Dragon chided me. "Not the jell-O."
I wanted to wring her wrinkled old neck, but me wife was barking directions at her mother, and I backed off into the shadows so as not to be pulled into cleanup duty for the umpteenth time. While they were cleaning him up, I spied the green blankie and made me move. I got it and rolled it up. Then, as they cooed at the Airport, I made me way to the cedar chest in the hallway. I buried that blanket under all the tablecloths. I got the tea kettle, poured meself some long sought-after refreshment and sat in the living room smug as can be.
Later, SHE came in looking for "her blanket" -- AS IF. I disavowed any knowledge of where it went to. I actually acted put out she'd lose me favourite blankie. It was the best wee bit of revenge I could have had. UNTIL me blankie suddenly appeared over the arm of the wife, who said, "I found it."
Traitorous woman!
Gabe
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I would have passed out from the sheer exertion of getting pissed off about me blankie. But the phone rang, and I thought for a quick instant, good, as soon as she gets up to answer it -- I'll grab the blankie. ONLY that didn't happen. With a cookie bit halfway to her mouth, she says, "Aren't YOU going to answer that?"
Oh, for sure! So I dragged meself up groaning from a churning stomach, only to get some recording telling me to hold "For an important message from Dr. Ron Paul," at which I hung up, more like slammed the receiver down, and lurched across the room to the kitchen and the hot tea kettle. I got meself down a cup and saucer, put a cube of sugar in, and then lurched to the cupboard to find the tea chest EMPTY! Me dragon-in-law had taken the last of the tea bags!
"What are you doing in there rattling the crockery Gabriel?" She sang out from under the warmth of me precious green blankie, hot steaming tea sitting on her lap.
"What do you think I be doing, you stupid old bat?" I wanted to shout back but refrained. I grumbled under me breath and tore the kitchen cabinets apart in the hope that there was a fresh box of tea someplace left forgot. But no, there was none and so I looked at the coffee maker. But then an instant replay in me mind of vomit splashing into me morning coffee became so overwhelming and vivid, I ended up running for the bathroom as the dry heaves took me over.
I can't remember much after that. I don't want to. I seem to have a vague recollection; I went into the office, rolled meself up in the braided rug and fell asleep on the floor. When I awoke, it was dark, and I could hear voices in the kitchen. The wife, yes, it was Tonya sounding human, and yes, the little Airport was chattering away, and oh yeah, that low roar, SHE was still here and out there with THEM. I could hear her coaxing me son, "Come on now, O'Hare, another bite, and you've finished the nice cherry Jell-O."
JELL-O? Instantly, I was out of the rug and on me wobbly feet. The doctor had said not to feed the wee one any sugar of any kind. That Jell-O could come a day or two after the vomiting and diarrhoea stopped. I tottered into the kitchen to find all of them smiling when suddenly, without warning, the red Jell-O came hurling out of the Airport at both ends. I was horrified as me wife scooped him up and ran for the changing table. I stood there looking at me dragon-in-law. I said quietly that the doctor said no sugar it would make the Airport sick all over again.
"Nonsense, Gabriel," she said, "I gave all my kids Jell-O when they were sick."
I wanted to tear me hair out. No, actually, I wanted to tear hers out. But I refrained as me wife called for me to help her. She didn't call for her mother, no, no, she called ME. Between the two of us, we got the wee child into a warm bath to get cleaned up. I took the dirty laundry, rinsed it out and threw it in the wash, which became me second job. I did more wash than I have ever in all me born days. But not before the dragon-in-law came in and told me I was doing it all wrong.
"You need to presoak Gabriel."
I'd like to presoak someone, I thought to meself, and then drown her.
By the next day, we all seemed on the mend again. I spoke privately with me wife about the Jell-O and to keep the old dragon from reintroducing the stuff a second time. She promised me she would.
I was feeling better about this time, but the dragon lady was getting on me last nerve. I sat in the kitchen thinking how good a fresh cup of hot tea would taste when I noticed me neighbour at the big house ploughing the road. It was snowing. I got on me jeans, and a heavy work shirt and slipped me ice cleats over me heavy boots. I grabbed me jacket, hat and gloves and went down to see if I could talk me neighbour out of a few tea bags, and in return, I'd help him shovel a wee bit.
So down I go, and he was just pulling down to his barn, the roadway between our homes cleared. He knew we were under the weather and invited me into the barn to talk as he piled cow manure onto his front loader. I told him the sad story of me running out of tea, and he said his wife had a couple of boxes, and he'd get one and bring it up. I said for a good deed like that, I'd run his manure out to the field if he wanted to get the box. He agreed and put a bucket with mouldy hay on top of the manure, and I set off with all to dump.
In the swirling snow, I went to the field and dumped the fresh manure. I got down to get the hay bucket and damped that to the side when I noticed one of me ice cleats on me boots was missing and so I looked around and found it on the edge of the cow dung. I fished it out and looked down and noticed the other one was missing, too! I kicked through all that steamy dung looking for it, levelled the manure down pretty much and couldn't find it. I was in a muck sweat and stamped back to the running tractor, cursing up a blue storm, when there it was on the floor of the tractor. And here I be full of manure up to me knees from stamping through it in search. Oi!
I got back, and the old man had quite a laugh at me. We ended up in his little heated room on the side of the barn, laughing like two fools, me sneezing between guffaws. He gave me a box of Tetley Tea and a box of tissues, and off I went for home and comfort. I was so proud of meself, saving the day with a box of tea, but the smile vanished from me face when I walked into the kitchen to find the dragon-in-law feeding me son another vat of red jell-O. Before I could light into her, Tonya stepped in, and the two of them were telling me the little Airport was well enough and there was no harm. And oh my God, what's that smell?
IT WAS ME. I started to explain about the trade-off of tea for dumping manure when suddenly the Airport opened his mouth and stood up, and you guessed it, both ends at once.
"It was the smell of you, Gabriel, that set the poor kid off," the Dragon chided me. "Not the jell-O."
I wanted to wring her wrinkled old neck, but me wife was barking directions at her mother, and I backed off into the shadows so as not to be pulled into cleanup duty for the umpteenth time. While they were cleaning him up, I spied the green blankie and made me move. I got it and rolled it up. Then, as they cooed at the Airport, I made me way to the cedar chest in the hallway. I buried that blanket under all the tablecloths. I got the tea kettle, poured meself some long sought-after refreshment and sat in the living room smug as can be.
Later, SHE came in looking for "her blanket" -- AS IF. I disavowed any knowledge of where it went to. I actually acted put out she'd lose me favourite blankie. It was the best wee bit of revenge I could have had. UNTIL me blankie suddenly appeared over the arm of the wife, who said, "I found it."
Traitorous woman!
Gabe
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
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