Monday, Nov. 29, 2004 | 8:38 p.m.



Blogroll Me!

[ Registered ]

      
Marriage is love.
Current
Archives
Diaryland

About Me ...
Profile
Cast
125 Things
40 Things in 5 Years

Ways to Contact Me...
E-mail

Book
Notes

My Other Sites...
Dragonfly Wings
The Fire Spiral
Coolest of the Cool
bindyree
boxx9000
chailife
clarity25
dukkha-tanha
eggsaucted
elgan
elysium1982
greenwitch
harri3tspy
hissandtell
iceweasel
iwillsurvive
la-the-sage
life-my-way
wistful-blue
might-could
nazgul--girl
nikki-lish
pharseer
poolagirl
r-y-r
sapphyr
strangerlucy
thedetails
theflyingrat
thehour
tiffy524
trancejen
reese219
tuckandsophi
widower
wildforests
witchful
thirstywit
pissymystic

Still More Coolness

When There's Too Much Eggnog in Your Brandy

So I got to thinking that it sounds like my Thanksgiving was all bad -- and it wasn't. I really enjoyed my time with my parents -- I usually do -- even if Dad is kind of hypocritical and dumb when it comes to politics. Heh.

One particularly entertaining episode happened Thanksgiving after Dad had one too many drinks -- brandy with a shot of eggnog. During the course of cooking dinner, my mom and I had filled the trashcan. I had gone out to sit by my dad on the couch that is right outside the kitchen window.

My mom said, "Merle, come take out the trash."

He looked at me questioningly.

"You need to take out the trash. We filled it getting dinner going," I explained helpfully.

He rose and walked to the door, a total of about, oh... five or six feet. He stopped and looked at me again.

"What was I doing?"

"The trash, Dad. Take out the trash."

"Okay."

He walked in the door and someone distracted him by handing him the phone -- big mistake. He walked right through the kitchen, through the living room, where he hung up the phone (I'm assuming the conversation was over, but who knows?) and then walked out the sliding door, around the side of the house and sat down on the couch.

Five minutes later, water rained down on him through the kitchen window.

"Merle. The trash!"

He looked at me again, yes, with the look of the RCA dog.

"Is the trash full?"

"Yes, Dad. Go take it out!"

Five feet to the door again. Pause.

"Dad! The trash!"

Opened the door, walked two feet in (which is approximately where the trash can lives). Stopped. My mom's voice rings out:

"Merle! Take out the trash!"

Finally, the trash went out.

Several hours and much sobriety later, my mom and I sat in the living room with my dad, who had napped and stopped drinking. We were watching tv.

My mom joked that the trash needed to go out, obviously thinking he would remember the earlier fiasco. Nope. He got up and walked into the kitchen and stared at the mostly empty trash can.

I wandered in after him. Yup, he had that look again. I started laughing hysterically and relayed this whole story to him. He had no recollection, but he did have a good laugh.

Previous | Next

Have something to say? So did 0 others!


Recent Entries ...
Go Here - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2006
Short, But Sad Good-bye - Sunday, Oct. 16, 2005
Jasmine's Story ... Our Story - Friday, Sept. 30, 2005
Ache - Thursday, Sept. 29, 2005
Twists & Turns - Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2005

join my Notify List and get email when I update my site:
email:
Powered by NotifyList.com

 

Who Links Here