Thursday, April 29, 2010

randomy stuff

Last night Doug and I went out for dinner at what is supposed to be a swanky-ish restaurant. The food sucked. Bad experience. But what was interesting was the couple at the table across from us.

She looked to be in her late 60's, maybe early 70's. He looked 10 or more years younger. Maybe. I couldn't decide what kind of relationship they had. Were they a married couple? Was he her care giver? Relatives? I don't know. What fascinated me was that they both had books and were independently reading between courses.

At first I wondered why they would bother sharing a nice dinner if they weren't going to also share conversation. But then it occurred to me that if they're both retired and spend all their days together anyway, they're probably all talked out. They both enjoy reading. They both enjoy good food. They're not eating alone. So what's the harm? Still though, I was glad to be eating with my friend and partner and having interesting and funny discussion.

Earlier yesterday afternoon I picked my grandson, Gabe, up from preschool because Beautiful's pre-natal exam went late. Over the last couple weeks, every time Gabe's daddy has picked him up from school, Gabe has asked for a milkshake. Daddy doesn't give in to junk food often, so the answer has been no. Since yesterday was a special day with Grammy, Daddy gave the go ahead for us to indulge in a special milkshake treat.
Gabe emphatically chose strawberry. Over the whole of the 30 minute drive back to my house, Gabe kept repeating over and over, "This is delicious!" It tickled me : ) He also kept referring to it as a smoothie. A very new-millennium moniker.
When Beautiful came to take Gabe home she reminded him to thank Grammy for the goody. He started but got stuck between the words 'smoothie' and 'milkshake.' What came out of his mouth was, "Grammy, thank you for the smoothcake!"
I would buy that little boy a smoothcake every day of the week just to see his happy little smile : )
Youngest is in track at the junior high. He tried out for shot put, discus and low hurdles. He was chosen to do the field events, but not the running event. It is, however, open to kids even if they weren't formally chosen--which is really kinda cool so the kids can try whatever they want and not be told they can't. I think that's how it should be in junior high.
Since he's allowed to run hurdles if he wants to, he put his name on the list for tomorrow's meet. The major problem is that he hasn't practiced the hurdles for 2 weeks!
This morning, with puffed up chest and his funny false bravado, he told me, "Yep, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the Hurdle King." I mentioned the lack of practice. He didn't think that would be an issue. So I let it go, tried to say something encouraging while hoping he doesn't fall flat on his face. Literally.
This evening he came to me and said, "So . . . I'm a little worried about the hurdles tomorrow."
"Oh?" I asked, "what happened to Hurdle King?"
"Turns out," he told me, "I haven't practiced in two weeks. It might not go so well tomorrow."
"That's okay," I reassured him, "I won't tell anyone you're my son."
heh heh

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

A nice, tidy ring.

My husband has a friend, Chuck, who knows everything. At least my husband thinks he does.

They've known each other since they were kids. For a few years, they even worked together. That was the worst. There was no end to, "Hey Honey, guess what Chuck told me today?" and, "Chuck mentioned this book he thinks I should read." Ad nauseum.

It went so far as, "Chuck thinks we should build the porch this way . . . " with, as you might guess, my reply being, "But I think we should build it that way."

In a not terribly surprising coincidence, my lovely daughter went through a similar phase as a teenager. Only it wasn't Chuck to whom she deferred, it was her mentor, Sara.

"Hey Mom, Sara thinks I should take summer dance classes at Cornish to stretch my range and broaden my horizons!" she told me one day. Funny how she didn't hear me say exactly the same thing only days before.

"Mom, Sara wants me to start teaching classes at her studio. She thinks it will help my confidence and be a good addition to my dance resume." Really? Sara thinks that? You don't remember me thinking that several months ago?

Today, Beautiful called me with a medical/pregnancy related question. She does that a lot lately.

"You don't have a fever?"


"And you're not uncomfortable?"


"And you aren't having any other symptoms that concern you?"


"And the nurse said it was fine to wait until tomorrow to see them? She wasn't panicky like you should come in right now?"

"No, she was calm. She said it would be fine to wait."

"Okay, then I don't think you have anything to worry about. You're seeing your doctor tomorrow anyway and if you have *any* discomfort or fever tonight then you can just go in to prompt care. But I'm pretty sure your husband has said all the same things to you, hasn't he?"

"Yes. But I evidently ignored every word he said and went directly to the phone for your advice."

"You mean the way you used to do to me with Sara's advice?"

"Yep," she laughed, "just exactly like that."

Ladies and gentlemen, we have achieved full circle : )

Now if only I could get rid of that Chuck guy . . .