YCMTSU stands for You Can’t Make This Shit Up.
I just got off the phone with my dad. To be honest, he called yesterday and I didn’t pick up. I hear you gasping. A couple months ago when I did pick up he was having some financial problems, so I was a little gun-shy yesterday. But because I am a bad Catholic daughter, the guilt got the best of me today and I picked up.
He said he’d tried calling yesterday. I said I was skiing. That was a lie. (Told you I was a bad Catholic.) He said, “I didn’t know you were a skier.” I said, “Dad, I’ve skied with you. You know I’m a skier.” He said, “I don’t have any short term memory anymore.” I said, “Dad, I’ve been skiing for 37 years.”
He called to share a story with me. It seems that yesterday he’d decided to “end it all”. He’s sick of the weather, his car broke down, his renters aren’t paying and he’s done with the whole damn thing. (Please understand that I have heard the “end it all” talk my whole life. First, I heard it from my grandma, then my dad. This talk is attention-getting at it’s worst.) I reminded him that the Catholic Chrch wouldn’t really take too kindly to his committing suicide. He said, “Well, yes. I would go straight to hell.” I said, “What’s the point of being a good Catholic all those years only to end it with suicide and go straight to hell?” He said, “Well…….”
I said, “Geez, Dad, at least you could wait until the end of golf season. You’ve got at least one more good season in ya.” He said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been swinging really well. I’ll rethink this thing in October.”
I said, “So did you call to give me the story of “Ending it all”? He said, “Oh yeah, that’s right. So I was walking to meet my buddies for lunch at Burger King. You know, since my car broke down. And as I was walking across the street I saw a big semi and some trucks heading for me and I thought, ‘I could do this right now.’ So I stopped in the middle of the road. And you know what happened? The truck in the front stopped and the semi stopped and everybody else stopped.” I said, “Well, Dad, I guess God put his big hand down to direct traffic, huh?” He said, “Guess who was driving the first truck that stopped.” I said, “I don’t know, Dad, tell me.” Continue reading →
This morning we woke to broken shortbread cookie bites and green sugar sprinkles strewn across the kitchen counter and along the floor. A confused Barbie was standing erect in Will’s leprechaun trap. More cookie bites were laying around Jen’s upturned trap. No luck. They still haven’t managed to catch a real leprechaun.
So now what? I know how I got into these relationships. I know what to do differently once I’m in one. I am learning new things about myself; what I want; what I don’t want, and what I will compromise on. I know the sweetness of the good parts, and I know the sour of the parts I won’t live with.
Apparently life is not waiting for me to catch up. It’s time to put an end to my little pity party, round up the soggy wads of kleenex, wipe the mascara from under my eyes and move on.
These prints belong to Nina, the world’s most patient cat. She left them on the front step while she patiently waited for one of us to remember to let her in.
Don’t touch a cowboy’s hat or a lady’s hair-do.
Today we skied like we could be Olympic contenders – in our dreams. We laughed, inhaled fresh mountain air, and got that really good tired. Then we came home and made fajitas, sat by the fire and watched amazing athletes compete on T.V.
