On the plane ride down to Florida, my wife sat next to two major germaphobes. They had the industrial size jug of hand sanitizer, the masks…the works. They were problematic in that they were also having issues with other passengers in the seats in front of them. The people in front of them were trying to change seats so they could sit with family members. Even though it wasn’t affecting the germaphobes, they didn’t like it. One of their comments that became the catch phrase of our trip was, “So, what, are we all changing seats now!?!” We got a kick out of them and naturally came up with a variety of jokes about them.
"Judge not lest ye be judged" says the Good Book - and my wife says she will never be judgmental about germaphobes again. The Wednesday afternoon we got down to Florida, she came down with the Flu. Good old “H1N1.” 8 days later, she still had a fever.
"Once Upon a Mattress" - What made it even more fun is that my Mom's condo is…non-large (Lovya Mom). We slept on a 30+ year old pullout couch…mattress. While it was on the pull out frame the bar that stuck in your lower back was way too painful, so we just put the mattress on the tile floor. My Mom had gone out and bought a blow-up mattress for my kids, but didn't realize that you need to charge the little electric blower for 12 hours before the first use (It won’t run if you just plug it into the wall outlet…we tried). So...at 9 p.m., I wound up going door to door hoping to borrow another pull-out couch mattress from one of my Mom’s neighbors. (Absolutely great fun making new friends with strangers well into their 80's, all in their jammers. It was also indescribable fun finding the treasures that had accumulated over the years under the cushions - unfortunately, no money!) Of course, back home our pullout couch mattress is pristine, I’ve often thought of eating off it.
Mission accomplished, I dragged another mattress back to my Mom's place and now we have two-pull out mattresses next to one another. All four of us are together, with my wife coughing all night long, and the kids grinding teeth. And for whatever reason, older folks in Florida do not believe in putting air conditioning on...it must be a religious thing! I’m lying there sweltering, thinking to myself, “Maybe I’m dreaming, could this really be happening? Or maybe I died, and I’m in purgatory.”
Also my Mom's not big on TV, so there wasn't one to watch…which my wife really appreciated since she was too sick and wiped out to read or do anything else.
At one point I come up with a great idea. I’ll take the kids to the beach… and escape for a while. The kids wind up arguing at each other constantly…until my head exploded. I erupt like Vesuvius, and explain that if either one of them opens their mouths again for the rest of the afternoon, the other will become an only child.
At this point I’m getting very depressed because I know my Mom does not keep alcohol in the apartment, and I’m too embarrassed to tell her I need to go out buy an economy size jug of vodka. I’m thinking maybe I’d now qualify for medical use marijuana.
Think we’re having fun yet? It gets better. The day before we leave my daughter stepped on a fire ant colony. Next time I'll send postcards from the clinic.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete