Here Ya Go -- Now You'll Know Why I Be The Way I Be

01 August 2015

Story #782

R. Linda:

Happy day for me, Tony is flying into Newark Airport from his sojourn in Japan and who else is flying there? Yes, the Dragon Lady! I be so pleased I cannot verbalise it. FINALLY! The only problem is that we are flying into Newark as well, due to the upcoming wedding. But the good news will be (hopefully) that we are flying out afterwards without the Dragon.

I am optimistic here, R. Linda, or at least trying to think positively and envision only us flying home. I have me fingers, legs, toes, and even me eyes crossed that this will be the case. The only negative I have encountered be me grey-haired, apple-cheeked wee Mam not wanting to be on a plane while Poldark is on. She just can't miss an episode, though I have reassured her it be on during the week, OR we could tape it. She said she wants to see it while it is "fresh," whatever that means.

Speaking of Mam, I have this nagging idea in my head to leave her in Jersey, accidentally on purpose. She is driving me up a pole, she is.

I get conversations first thing in the morning like this:

Dragon (the mother of 6) asked Mam: "Were you planning on just two children?"

Me Mam (giving her answer some bit of thought):  "Uh . . . we wanted one we did, but then along came sonny buy here."

Dragon (under her breath but loud enough for me to hear): "Oh, he was a mistake, I thought so."

Me Mam (thinking fast because I was standing there): "Nooo, he was an accident."

Like that made it better, I tell ya!

Me (reacting): "I be having a little bother at that."

Dragon (with a smile on her face she couldn't hide): "You look tense, Gabriel."

Me: "Do I? Right.

Me Mam: "You have da look of a man who needs a good cuppa tea!"

Me: "That was bloody awful, am I right?" I asked Tonya who came in with a boyo under her arm.

Tonya: "What?"

Me Mam: "Oooh nutin' Gabriel be over reactin' to a bit of gab me an yer mam be havin' that be all. 'Ere be yer tae (tea) Gabe."

And she sets this soup bowl with a handle in front of me as if that will soothe my feelings.

It is the one in front -- this to placate me feelings, uh huh.

Then, like this conversation had never taken place, she says to me, "Did ye make yer bed befur ye came ta da breakfast table?"

What am I, 10? I looked up at her with a sip of the hot tea in me gob and shook me head at her.

"Well, I brought ya oop well an' good, so when yer finished yer breakie, ye go in dere an' first make yer bed an den brush yer teeth."

I wasn't shaking my head no, I was shaking me head like I didn't know about her, and she should stop now, but that was ignored.

Okay, so me wife, who was usually in a daze until her tenth cup of coffee in the morning, was silently laughing at me. Dragon was looking at me, amused as well, and the old woman (whom I refer to as the spouter of such juvenile nonsense) was bustling along, making rashers and eggs with her back to me.

Just so you know, I don't get coffee first thing like I be used to. I get TEA because I am reminded constantly, that I be IRISH and was never served the darker liquid and it isn't as good for my "system" as Irish breakfast tea. I steal cups of coffee when she isn't looking. How sad is that?

I tell ya!

At the end of breakfast, and just to be a prat, I stood up and announced I was on me way to make my bed and brush me teeth.

"See, I raised him good." The old woman declared.

I'd like to say that this issue arose when we first started living together and then tapered off, but that isn't true; it persists constantly.

"Gabriel, did ya wipe yer big feet befur ya came in? Gabriel, don't forgit a jumper, you'll catch a chill out dere. Gabriel, how many times do I have to tell ya no elbows on da table? Gabriel set yer napkin on yer lap where it belongs, da table don't care if it has crumbs on it. Gabriel, take out da trash bin; overflow be not a science experiment. Gabriel, close da door behind yersel, ye don't live in a barn. Gabriel, go back and run a coomb through that hair, ya look a fright. Gabriel, pick oop yer socks, do ya tink dey pick demselves oop? Gabriel, dats enuff cobbler, ye'll give yersel worms! Gabriel, eat yer Brussels sprouts, dey be good fer da blood. Gabriel, I did not ask who poot it dere, I asked you to pick it up!" And the list goes on.

Even Tonya isn't immune, because her mother also harps on her, mainly about how she disciplines or doesn't discipline our children. While we have one mother temporarily, we have the other permanently. So the bet between Ton and meself be no bet really, we know I will be in the loony bin first. There ya go!

Gabe
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