Several years ago, I started an experiment where I eat whatever I want, drink whatever I want and never, ever exert myself physically. So far, my plan is working and I look exactly the way I did when I was in college.
Only about 30 pounds heavier.
Monday, February 15, 2010
So what? I'm still a rock star...
I haven’t blogged in a while. I’m not sorry about it, like so many other blogspotters claim to been when they haven’t posted in a while. I just haven’t done it because I’m being lazy and I’d rather just update my Facebook status.
Not that it matters much that I haven’t posted since August, because my trusty little site meter isn’t even at 500 hits yet. Maybe, one day, I’ll promote traffic to my site and reap the hundreds of cents I’ll make from people clicking on stuff on my blog page. One can only dream.
Anyway, I’m going to start posting again. So there.
Not that it matters much that I haven’t posted since August, because my trusty little site meter isn’t even at 500 hits yet. Maybe, one day, I’ll promote traffic to my site and reap the hundreds of cents I’ll make from people clicking on stuff on my blog page. One can only dream.
Anyway, I’m going to start posting again. So there.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Some of that good well water...
Shonda and Chris had purchased their first home in a whirlwind process that only took about two weeks. They had contemplated it for a few months, but by the time they found a real estate agent, it seemed like everything was just too easy and fell right into place for them. It only took a few days to get pre-approved for a loan, and then only a few more to find just the right house. Once they closed on it, they found themselves packing three years worth of stuff and hauling it across town to the house that they would forever think of as their first true home.
Sure they had lived in various houses throughout their lives, but a home was something different. A home was something that you could make your own. They could give it a sense of style and uniqueness without having to ask someone’s permission first. This appealed to them both and they were anxious to paint the walls all of their favorite colors and hang up curtains that showed the true “them”.
Unfortunately, they were so caught up in the moment and in the hastiness in which everything had happened, that they forgot to consider a few small details. When they worked out their budget to include a new mortgage payment (quite a bit higher than what they were accustomed to paying for rent) they neglected the fact that they never had to worry about a washer, dryer or refrigerator before. Upon realizing this and knowing that they wouldn’t be able to afford buy these things for quite some time, they decided to browse the local Rent-to-Own places to see what they could find.
When they entered one such establishment, they found that the washers and dryers were not too bad as far as a weekly rental was concerned. And they decided that they could afford that until January when they got their income tax refund. The refrigerators, however, were altogether out of their price range and they simply couldn’t afford the weekly payments that would be required.
So the day that they moved in the last of their furniture, Chris scoured the classifieds to see what they had to offer. He finally found an ad stating a sizeable fridge in good condition that had to "go now at this very reasonable price." Not wanting to risk losing it to someone else, Chris called the number and made arrangements to pick the thing up.
When he and his brother arrived, they found a beast of a machine waiting for them. It was a light brown, double door fridge that looked like it was straight from the 70’s. With the help of the seller, they managed to work the 500 pound monster up into the back of his brother’s tiny little pick-up truck and drove home at a snail’s pace. Every corner and turn they encountered made the truck lean over just a little further than normal because of the weight of the fridge. But they made it home without major incident only to face the daunting task of getting the thing not only inside, but up a flight of stairs as well.
Chris called a friend from college who lived not far away and the boys got down to the task at hand. The three of them easily got the thing out of the bed of the truck, because gravity was doing most of the work for them. All they had to concentrate on was not dropping it. They then worked it down the short side walk in front of the house and up to a tiny concrete porch. This only required one step up, and while it took some effort, the three of them managed.
“This may not be as hard as I thought,” Chris stated with confidence. Only to find out almost immediately that he was completely wrong. The fridge was not only very heavy, but there weren’t very many places to get a good grip on it. And, most of those places were solid steel and somewhat sharp. They only had about seven steps to go, but it took them a good 45 minutes. As they reached the top, exhausted, they had no choice but to lean the thing all the way over to clear the entrance to the kitchen. Once it was in they got it right side up and plugged it in. It began to hum softly as the cooling element came to life and they were satisfied with a job well done.
Chris checked on the thing several times over the next few hours and it kept getting colder and colder. So they went to bed content that they had made a decent purchase and that all was well.
Chris woke up the next day only to find that while the thing was still running, it was not very cold at all. “That figures,” he thought to himself, glad that he had only paid $80 for it. “Hopefully it will last for a few months.”
That turned out to be wishful thinking. Within a few days the appliance had lost all capacity to maintain a cold temperature and they were forced to store their food in ice chests. During a phone call to her mother, Shonda mentioned what had happened.
“Why’d they lay it down?” was Ranae’s first response. “Everyone knows you can’t lay a fridge down and then plug it in right away. You have to wait for a least a day or two for all the fluid to come out of the compressor. They probably burned that darn thing up!”
“How in the world is a normal human being supposed to know that?” Chris practically yelled. “Unless I’m a refrigerator mover or I’ve seen that obscure fact someplace on the internet, how am I supposed to know that?” He was more embarrassed than upset about this. Once he heard what had happened it all made logical sense as to why it wasn't working.
Ranae offered that a nearby thrift store in a neighboring town had a small fridge out front the last time she drove by. “I think it was only $50,” she said.
Chris asked her to see if it was still there and to either put it on hold or buy it and he would pay her back. She said she would and that following Saturday, Chris drove three and a half hours to Kentucky to pick the thing up.
Not expecting much when he arrived, he wasn’t surprised to see that this fridge was very small and very old. But, it didn’t smell and once he plugged it in to make sure it worked, he hauled it back home.
They lived with this excuse for a fridge for the next two months. It worked, to be sure, but it accumulated frost very quickly and never really got things as cold as they were supposed to be. So it was with extreme excitement when January hit and they received their tax refund check from the government. They drove down to the Home Depot and began browsing. They settled on a two door fridge that had all the amenities: ice maker, ample storage, moveable shelving, plenty of freezer space and an ice and water dispenser in the door.
The latter feature was utilized more than any other. They both loved that they didn’t have to dig in an ice bucket or crack open an ice tray when the needed a glass of ice. And the water dispenser had its own filtration system so it was just as good as bottled water. So they were content, and their food and beverages were properly cooled and stored.
So it was with great pride that they worked on their little home. Painting a room here, adding a ceiling fan there. All those inexpensive minor things that when added up, can make quite an impact.
A few weeks had passed and Shonda’s family came for a visit. Ranae, Jeff (Shonda’s stepfather), and their three youngest daughter’s; Tabatha, Charissa and Sabrina made the trek from rural Kentucky to the metropolitan area of suburbia St. Louis. They all filed into the home and Chris and Shonda gave them the grand tour.
“This is the master bedroom,” Chris stated. “It was actually an addition to the house. When we go outside later I’ll show you the posts that it actually rests on. It’s kind of like one of the houses on stilts you see on beaches.”
He continued on with the smaller bedrooms, and the girls “oohed” and “awed” at Savannah’s purple and white Princess room. He took them down into the finished basement and showed them where he ultimately was going to put his big screen TV. And then led them back upstairs to show the hard wood floors in the living room and finally the kitchen.
“And this,” Chris said with grandiose flair, “is the latest addition to our family.” He pointed directly at the brand new side by side and stood back to bask in the glow of their jealousy.
Needless to say, they all showed how impressed they were (whether they meant it or not, he didn’t care). He even went so far as to demonstrate all of its features and made Ranae a fresh glass of filtered ice water.
She gladly accepted it and took a long drink as Chris looked on. Then without warning, her face went pale as she lunged towards the kitchen sink. She spit out the ice water and then dumped the rest of her glass. She was making gagging sounds and flailing her arms about.
Chris, looking at her in horror and confusion, demanded to know what was wrong. He was scared that there may be something wrong with the water.
“That was awful!” Ranae replied. His mother-in-law had a tendency to overreact to most situations and this one was no different. “What the heck’s the matter with that stuff? And what’s that taste?”
“Do you mean the taste of fresh filtered water?” Chris intoned as sarcastically as he possibly could. He was beginning to get offended by her behavior.
“That stuff is horrible,” Ranae continued. “Does all city water taste like that?”
Ranae and Jeff, made their home in a tiny little town in rural Kentucky. And while it was a far cry from the images of Appalachia from the movie “Deliverance” that you may have in mind, it wasn’t too far off. They lived in a small trailer that was just down the road from Jeff’s mechanic job. They managed to barely make ends meet with what Jeff brought home and what the state supplemented them with via food stamps, etc.
Their living situation often involved various automobiles in the yard along with assorted run-down appliances. There were also the multitude of family “pets” which included dogs, cats, chickens, and even a few raccoons. The interior was a hodgepodge of all the things that they had accumulated over the years, and they could never seem to get rid of any of it. They driveway was dirt, they had been know to “borrow” electricity from a nearby neighbor and yes, they got their water from a well.
“Not all city water tastes like that,” Chris retorted. “And besides, it’s not city water. It’s filtered water.”
To satisfy himself, he made himself a glass. First he sniffed it and then took a drink.
“Ranae, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this water,” he said.
“I tell ya what,” she said, “they next time we come up, I’m gonna bring ya some of that good well water from home.”
“Really? That's not necessary." Chris said.
“Yep.” Ranae continued, “and then we can compare the both of them.”
“Fair enough,” Chris said.
The rest of the visit continued without incident. They said their goodbye’s, made plans for a Thanksgiving visit, and the Kentucky folks returned home.
Life went on for the next few months. The seasons changed from summer to fall, and from fall to winter. Ranae and Jeff were outside by an open fire, enjoying the contrasting warmth of the fire and the crisp night air of early winter. They were busy crushing aluminum cans and bagging them up in preparation for their trip back to the city. They already had several bags filled and they were headed off to the recycle place in the morning to trade their cans in for some gas money. When they had crushed the last can, they sat around for a little while longer.
“Well momma,” Jeff finally said. “We should probably call it a night. We gotta get up early, you know?”
“Yep,” she answered back. “I’m just going to go in and get a few things ready.”
They woke up early and Jeff drove the cans to the recycle place to collect their bounty. While he was gone, Ranae was busy waking up the girls and packing the last few items they would need for the road. She always brought food with her, just in case. She had packed a cooler full and was busy finding any tiny crevice of room that may be left for some beers and sodas she found in the fridge. Jeff pulled back down the driveway honking the horn and shouting “Let’s get a move on!”
Ranae hurried the girls out while Jeff came in and got all the heavy stuff. They were all piled in the car and Jeff started to pull back up the driveway.
“Wait!” Ranae shouted and opened her door.
Jeff swore and slammed on the brake. “What’s the matter with you woman!” he demanded.
“I forgot something,” she said and ran back in the house.
Jeff sat impatiently in the car and was growing more agitated by the moment. He hated making this long trip anyway, and right now he just wanted to get it over with. The seconds seemed like hours and he was on the verge of honking the horn when the front door of the trailer came open and Ranae came back outside. She was carrying something, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He decided it wasn’t worth the effort to try and find out, and put the car in drive.
They arrived later that day at Chris and Shonda’s house, and were greeted with hugs and kisses. Savannah, their oldest child, flew into her grandmother’s arms almost the second she stepped out of the car. They all went inside and visited for a while. Then Jeff and Ranae went back out to bring their stuff in.
Chris was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal when Ranae entered and sat an old milk jug down on the counter. Chris eyed it with hesitant curiosity. It was so old it was beginning to turn yellow, and it had a peculiar rust color along one side. He couldn’t quite make out what was inside, so against his better judgment, he asked about the contents of the jug.
“It’s some of that good well water, silly.” Ranae laughed at him and slapped him on the shoulder.
“I told you I was gonna bring ya some, didn’t I?”
Chris had completely forgotten about the gagging incident a few months before. He stared at Ranae with a helpless look on his face. “You didn’t have to bring that, Ranae,” he said. “Our water is just fine.”
“I just want you to try it. If you don’t like it then fine,” she said.
“Fine,” Chris gave in. Knowing how stubborn Ranae could be he decided that he should just get it over with.
He opened a cabinet and took down a glass. Ranae opened the jug and handed it to him. Chris winced as he caught his first whiff of this acrid water that had been kept in the hideous jug for who knows how long. “Are you sure it’s fresh?” he quipped.
“Just poured it this mornin’,” she replied.
He sighed and poured the liquid into his glass. On a whim, he held the glass up to the light and could immediately see tiny dark specs floating in it. By this time a crowd had gathered around them in the kitchen to watch this small contest of wills. Chris tried to summon all his strength and will to take a sip, but again his eye caught a tiny fleck suspended in the glass. It was mocking him, almost daring him to take a drink. So he did the only thing left to do...
Sure they had lived in various houses throughout their lives, but a home was something different. A home was something that you could make your own. They could give it a sense of style and uniqueness without having to ask someone’s permission first. This appealed to them both and they were anxious to paint the walls all of their favorite colors and hang up curtains that showed the true “them”.
Unfortunately, they were so caught up in the moment and in the hastiness in which everything had happened, that they forgot to consider a few small details. When they worked out their budget to include a new mortgage payment (quite a bit higher than what they were accustomed to paying for rent) they neglected the fact that they never had to worry about a washer, dryer or refrigerator before. Upon realizing this and knowing that they wouldn’t be able to afford buy these things for quite some time, they decided to browse the local Rent-to-Own places to see what they could find.
When they entered one such establishment, they found that the washers and dryers were not too bad as far as a weekly rental was concerned. And they decided that they could afford that until January when they got their income tax refund. The refrigerators, however, were altogether out of their price range and they simply couldn’t afford the weekly payments that would be required.
So the day that they moved in the last of their furniture, Chris scoured the classifieds to see what they had to offer. He finally found an ad stating a sizeable fridge in good condition that had to "go now at this very reasonable price." Not wanting to risk losing it to someone else, Chris called the number and made arrangements to pick the thing up.
When he and his brother arrived, they found a beast of a machine waiting for them. It was a light brown, double door fridge that looked like it was straight from the 70’s. With the help of the seller, they managed to work the 500 pound monster up into the back of his brother’s tiny little pick-up truck and drove home at a snail’s pace. Every corner and turn they encountered made the truck lean over just a little further than normal because of the weight of the fridge. But they made it home without major incident only to face the daunting task of getting the thing not only inside, but up a flight of stairs as well.
Chris called a friend from college who lived not far away and the boys got down to the task at hand. The three of them easily got the thing out of the bed of the truck, because gravity was doing most of the work for them. All they had to concentrate on was not dropping it. They then worked it down the short side walk in front of the house and up to a tiny concrete porch. This only required one step up, and while it took some effort, the three of them managed.
“This may not be as hard as I thought,” Chris stated with confidence. Only to find out almost immediately that he was completely wrong. The fridge was not only very heavy, but there weren’t very many places to get a good grip on it. And, most of those places were solid steel and somewhat sharp. They only had about seven steps to go, but it took them a good 45 minutes. As they reached the top, exhausted, they had no choice but to lean the thing all the way over to clear the entrance to the kitchen. Once it was in they got it right side up and plugged it in. It began to hum softly as the cooling element came to life and they were satisfied with a job well done.
Chris checked on the thing several times over the next few hours and it kept getting colder and colder. So they went to bed content that they had made a decent purchase and that all was well.
Chris woke up the next day only to find that while the thing was still running, it was not very cold at all. “That figures,” he thought to himself, glad that he had only paid $80 for it. “Hopefully it will last for a few months.”
That turned out to be wishful thinking. Within a few days the appliance had lost all capacity to maintain a cold temperature and they were forced to store their food in ice chests. During a phone call to her mother, Shonda mentioned what had happened.
“Why’d they lay it down?” was Ranae’s first response. “Everyone knows you can’t lay a fridge down and then plug it in right away. You have to wait for a least a day or two for all the fluid to come out of the compressor. They probably burned that darn thing up!”
“How in the world is a normal human being supposed to know that?” Chris practically yelled. “Unless I’m a refrigerator mover or I’ve seen that obscure fact someplace on the internet, how am I supposed to know that?” He was more embarrassed than upset about this. Once he heard what had happened it all made logical sense as to why it wasn't working.
Ranae offered that a nearby thrift store in a neighboring town had a small fridge out front the last time she drove by. “I think it was only $50,” she said.
Chris asked her to see if it was still there and to either put it on hold or buy it and he would pay her back. She said she would and that following Saturday, Chris drove three and a half hours to Kentucky to pick the thing up.
Not expecting much when he arrived, he wasn’t surprised to see that this fridge was very small and very old. But, it didn’t smell and once he plugged it in to make sure it worked, he hauled it back home.
They lived with this excuse for a fridge for the next two months. It worked, to be sure, but it accumulated frost very quickly and never really got things as cold as they were supposed to be. So it was with extreme excitement when January hit and they received their tax refund check from the government. They drove down to the Home Depot and began browsing. They settled on a two door fridge that had all the amenities: ice maker, ample storage, moveable shelving, plenty of freezer space and an ice and water dispenser in the door.
The latter feature was utilized more than any other. They both loved that they didn’t have to dig in an ice bucket or crack open an ice tray when the needed a glass of ice. And the water dispenser had its own filtration system so it was just as good as bottled water. So they were content, and their food and beverages were properly cooled and stored.
So it was with great pride that they worked on their little home. Painting a room here, adding a ceiling fan there. All those inexpensive minor things that when added up, can make quite an impact.
A few weeks had passed and Shonda’s family came for a visit. Ranae, Jeff (Shonda’s stepfather), and their three youngest daughter’s; Tabatha, Charissa and Sabrina made the trek from rural Kentucky to the metropolitan area of suburbia St. Louis. They all filed into the home and Chris and Shonda gave them the grand tour.
“This is the master bedroom,” Chris stated. “It was actually an addition to the house. When we go outside later I’ll show you the posts that it actually rests on. It’s kind of like one of the houses on stilts you see on beaches.”
He continued on with the smaller bedrooms, and the girls “oohed” and “awed” at Savannah’s purple and white Princess room. He took them down into the finished basement and showed them where he ultimately was going to put his big screen TV. And then led them back upstairs to show the hard wood floors in the living room and finally the kitchen.
“And this,” Chris said with grandiose flair, “is the latest addition to our family.” He pointed directly at the brand new side by side and stood back to bask in the glow of their jealousy.
Needless to say, they all showed how impressed they were (whether they meant it or not, he didn’t care). He even went so far as to demonstrate all of its features and made Ranae a fresh glass of filtered ice water.
She gladly accepted it and took a long drink as Chris looked on. Then without warning, her face went pale as she lunged towards the kitchen sink. She spit out the ice water and then dumped the rest of her glass. She was making gagging sounds and flailing her arms about.
Chris, looking at her in horror and confusion, demanded to know what was wrong. He was scared that there may be something wrong with the water.
“That was awful!” Ranae replied. His mother-in-law had a tendency to overreact to most situations and this one was no different. “What the heck’s the matter with that stuff? And what’s that taste?”
“Do you mean the taste of fresh filtered water?” Chris intoned as sarcastically as he possibly could. He was beginning to get offended by her behavior.
“That stuff is horrible,” Ranae continued. “Does all city water taste like that?”
Ranae and Jeff, made their home in a tiny little town in rural Kentucky. And while it was a far cry from the images of Appalachia from the movie “Deliverance” that you may have in mind, it wasn’t too far off. They lived in a small trailer that was just down the road from Jeff’s mechanic job. They managed to barely make ends meet with what Jeff brought home and what the state supplemented them with via food stamps, etc.
Their living situation often involved various automobiles in the yard along with assorted run-down appliances. There were also the multitude of family “pets” which included dogs, cats, chickens, and even a few raccoons. The interior was a hodgepodge of all the things that they had accumulated over the years, and they could never seem to get rid of any of it. They driveway was dirt, they had been know to “borrow” electricity from a nearby neighbor and yes, they got their water from a well.
“Not all city water tastes like that,” Chris retorted. “And besides, it’s not city water. It’s filtered water.”
To satisfy himself, he made himself a glass. First he sniffed it and then took a drink.
“Ranae, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this water,” he said.
“I tell ya what,” she said, “they next time we come up, I’m gonna bring ya some of that good well water from home.”
“Really? That's not necessary." Chris said.
“Yep.” Ranae continued, “and then we can compare the both of them.”
“Fair enough,” Chris said.
The rest of the visit continued without incident. They said their goodbye’s, made plans for a Thanksgiving visit, and the Kentucky folks returned home.
Life went on for the next few months. The seasons changed from summer to fall, and from fall to winter. Ranae and Jeff were outside by an open fire, enjoying the contrasting warmth of the fire and the crisp night air of early winter. They were busy crushing aluminum cans and bagging them up in preparation for their trip back to the city. They already had several bags filled and they were headed off to the recycle place in the morning to trade their cans in for some gas money. When they had crushed the last can, they sat around for a little while longer.
“Well momma,” Jeff finally said. “We should probably call it a night. We gotta get up early, you know?”
“Yep,” she answered back. “I’m just going to go in and get a few things ready.”
They woke up early and Jeff drove the cans to the recycle place to collect their bounty. While he was gone, Ranae was busy waking up the girls and packing the last few items they would need for the road. She always brought food with her, just in case. She had packed a cooler full and was busy finding any tiny crevice of room that may be left for some beers and sodas she found in the fridge. Jeff pulled back down the driveway honking the horn and shouting “Let’s get a move on!”
Ranae hurried the girls out while Jeff came in and got all the heavy stuff. They were all piled in the car and Jeff started to pull back up the driveway.
“Wait!” Ranae shouted and opened her door.
Jeff swore and slammed on the brake. “What’s the matter with you woman!” he demanded.
“I forgot something,” she said and ran back in the house.
Jeff sat impatiently in the car and was growing more agitated by the moment. He hated making this long trip anyway, and right now he just wanted to get it over with. The seconds seemed like hours and he was on the verge of honking the horn when the front door of the trailer came open and Ranae came back outside. She was carrying something, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He decided it wasn’t worth the effort to try and find out, and put the car in drive.
They arrived later that day at Chris and Shonda’s house, and were greeted with hugs and kisses. Savannah, their oldest child, flew into her grandmother’s arms almost the second she stepped out of the car. They all went inside and visited for a while. Then Jeff and Ranae went back out to bring their stuff in.
Chris was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal when Ranae entered and sat an old milk jug down on the counter. Chris eyed it with hesitant curiosity. It was so old it was beginning to turn yellow, and it had a peculiar rust color along one side. He couldn’t quite make out what was inside, so against his better judgment, he asked about the contents of the jug.
“It’s some of that good well water, silly.” Ranae laughed at him and slapped him on the shoulder.
“I told you I was gonna bring ya some, didn’t I?”
Chris had completely forgotten about the gagging incident a few months before. He stared at Ranae with a helpless look on his face. “You didn’t have to bring that, Ranae,” he said. “Our water is just fine.”
“I just want you to try it. If you don’t like it then fine,” she said.
“Fine,” Chris gave in. Knowing how stubborn Ranae could be he decided that he should just get it over with.
He opened a cabinet and took down a glass. Ranae opened the jug and handed it to him. Chris winced as he caught his first whiff of this acrid water that had been kept in the hideous jug for who knows how long. “Are you sure it’s fresh?” he quipped.
“Just poured it this mornin’,” she replied.
He sighed and poured the liquid into his glass. On a whim, he held the glass up to the light and could immediately see tiny dark specs floating in it. By this time a crowd had gathered around them in the kitchen to watch this small contest of wills. Chris tried to summon all his strength and will to take a sip, but again his eye caught a tiny fleck suspended in the glass. It was mocking him, almost daring him to take a drink. So he did the only thing left to do...
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Well Water...Part Eight
Chapter 4
Shonda was sitting on the couch drinking her morning cup of coffee. She was enjoying a rare moment when all three of her children were quietly watching television instead of fighting with each other. She pondered what arts and crafts she was going to have for the day care kids and was already running through a mental inventory of fridge and pantry items that she could use for that day’s lunch and snacks. As she sat in her contemplative state, she was interrupted by Nicholas.
“I hungy mama” he said in a very serious voice as he rubbed his belly in a circular motion.
“Okay Nick Nack,” she laughed at his universal hand signal for hunger. “Do you want a waffle?”
“Yes,” he replied, with an emphasis on the “s”, and went back to sit down in front of the TV.
Nicholas had just recently begun speaking in full sentences and was a source of constant laughter for Shonda throughout the day. His mispronunciation of words, and the words and syllables he chose to emphasize, meant there was never a dull conversation to be had with him. In fact, all three of her children were at various levels of communication and that meant there were some extremely funny one-liners being uttered on a consistent basis. Savannah, who was very smart for a seven year old, was always trying to say profound and intelligent things, to make her sound more like an adult. But she usually ended up tongue tied or saying things that contradicted what she was trying to say. And Noah was always pronouncing words in his own way, which on several occasions had caused his parents to become extremely embarrassed.
Once during a family holiday in which there were several family members visiting, they had decided to get everyone McDonald’s for lunch. When Noah’s happy meal arrived, he snatched his bag and went directly into the living room. The meal came with a toy that looked quite complicated for a five year old, so Chris had read the directions and they figured out how to assemble it together. Regrettably, Chris had made the comment to Noah that it was very important to read the directions first. Noah processed this wisdom from his father and directed his attention towards his toy.
He left Noah with his toy and his nuggets and went back to his own lunch. A little while later, as they were all enjoying their food, Noah came frantically running into the kitchen with tears in his eyes.
Everyone had concerned looks on their faces as no one could figure out why he was so upset.
“What’s the matter little man?” Chris asked, not sure what to make of the situation.
“Daddy, I lost my directions!” he cried and the entire room burst into laughter as Chris just shook his head and Shonda buried her head in her hands.
While Noah had every intention of actually saying the word “directions”, he somehow could only pronounce it without the “d”. So what came out was a very high pitched “Daddy, I lost my erections!”
Noah, who like both of their children, absolutely hated to be mocked in any way, started to get angry and stormed out of the kitchen. The adults in the room, who had burst out with an initial fit of laughter, were now trying to stifle that, without much success. Shonda, who was mortified by this could do nothing but concentrate on eating her chicken sandwich, and Chris (who was privately laughing to himself about the situation) was on his way after Noah to calm him down and try to teach him the correct way to pronounce the word.
Shonda was sitting on the couch drinking her morning cup of coffee. She was enjoying a rare moment when all three of her children were quietly watching television instead of fighting with each other. She pondered what arts and crafts she was going to have for the day care kids and was already running through a mental inventory of fridge and pantry items that she could use for that day’s lunch and snacks. As she sat in her contemplative state, she was interrupted by Nicholas.
“I hungy mama” he said in a very serious voice as he rubbed his belly in a circular motion.
“Okay Nick Nack,” she laughed at his universal hand signal for hunger. “Do you want a waffle?”
“Yes,” he replied, with an emphasis on the “s”, and went back to sit down in front of the TV.
Nicholas had just recently begun speaking in full sentences and was a source of constant laughter for Shonda throughout the day. His mispronunciation of words, and the words and syllables he chose to emphasize, meant there was never a dull conversation to be had with him. In fact, all three of her children were at various levels of communication and that meant there were some extremely funny one-liners being uttered on a consistent basis. Savannah, who was very smart for a seven year old, was always trying to say profound and intelligent things, to make her sound more like an adult. But she usually ended up tongue tied or saying things that contradicted what she was trying to say. And Noah was always pronouncing words in his own way, which on several occasions had caused his parents to become extremely embarrassed.
Once during a family holiday in which there were several family members visiting, they had decided to get everyone McDonald’s for lunch. When Noah’s happy meal arrived, he snatched his bag and went directly into the living room. The meal came with a toy that looked quite complicated for a five year old, so Chris had read the directions and they figured out how to assemble it together. Regrettably, Chris had made the comment to Noah that it was very important to read the directions first. Noah processed this wisdom from his father and directed his attention towards his toy.
He left Noah with his toy and his nuggets and went back to his own lunch. A little while later, as they were all enjoying their food, Noah came frantically running into the kitchen with tears in his eyes.
Everyone had concerned looks on their faces as no one could figure out why he was so upset.
“What’s the matter little man?” Chris asked, not sure what to make of the situation.
“Daddy, I lost my directions!” he cried and the entire room burst into laughter as Chris just shook his head and Shonda buried her head in her hands.
While Noah had every intention of actually saying the word “directions”, he somehow could only pronounce it without the “d”. So what came out was a very high pitched “Daddy, I lost my erections!”
Noah, who like both of their children, absolutely hated to be mocked in any way, started to get angry and stormed out of the kitchen. The adults in the room, who had burst out with an initial fit of laughter, were now trying to stifle that, without much success. Shonda, who was mortified by this could do nothing but concentrate on eating her chicken sandwich, and Chris (who was privately laughing to himself about the situation) was on his way after Noah to calm him down and try to teach him the correct way to pronounce the word.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Well Water...Part Seven
Chris backed the rest of the way out of the driveway and onto the street of their subdivision. His eye caught the window screen of his son’s room. Weeks prior, Savannah had decided to throw a tantrum and cut nice little square shaped holes in each of the kid’s windows. It didn’t look that bad from inside the house. But from the outside you could see these blemishes from across the street. It had annoyed Shonda that he hadn’t had a chance to repair them yet. She would make comments like “we finally moved into a nice house in a decent neighborhood and now we have ghetto windows!” She was right though. A little more than a year earlier they had purchased what Shonda considered her dream home. It was a modest two story house, with green wooden siding and bright white windows. Shonda said it reminded her of a doll house. Chris didn’t have an opinion one way or the other about that observation, but he did admit that it was the nicest house that he or any member of his family had ever been lucky enough to live in. He made a mental note to fix the screens on the weekend and made his way through the neighborhood.
He meandered through the subdivision of middle class homes with well manicured lawns. The houses were of various shapes and sizes. There were two story homes, ranch style houses and a variety of brick and siding choices. It was a typical suburban neighborhood. When they first moved in what Chris noticed almost immediately was that the average age of the residents was well beyond their own age. These were mostly families with high school aged children, if not college age. They were well established in their various careers and most of the women were stay at home moms and a fair amount of them had some sort of “enhancement” procedures done to their bodies. They were forever scheduling neighborhood association meetings of some sort, or someone was trying to schedule as mass play-date or event at the community pool. There were mom's clubs and “girls’ night out” clubs. It was an entire subdivision of people who liked to do almost the exact same things. Chris privately joked with Shonda that they had moved into a “Stepford” neighborhood. To himself, he thought that they had somehow gotten ahead of the game and should still be living in their first home, which was a much more modest split level house with a mortgage that was half of what they were paying now.
He passed by a few of the neighborhood’s morning walkers: an assortment of elderly ladies ambling down the streets and sidewalks and a sole dog walker being briskly lead down the road. As he drove, he fumbled with the radio. He wasn’t really searching for any station in particular, and settled for the local country station that he had awakened to earlier. He made his way out of the neighborhood and onto a series of back roads that would eventually lead him to a main expressway.
Their subdivision was directly next to a vast non-residential area that was still part of the greater metropolitan area, but was located between two major parts of town. It was a very beautiful part of the city that consisted of some farmland, a county park and an assortment of driving ranges, soccer fields and baseball fields. When they had moved to the new house, it only took Chris a few weeks to find out that he could cut his commute to work in half by taking the back roads, and he was pleasantly surprised that the scenery wasn’t too bad either.
He pulled onto yet another road which passed the edge of a large park and lake. This was the kind of park that consisted of several different smaller sections. In addition to the lake, which was by far the biggest and most popular attraction, there were several other pavilions, smaller playgrounds, driving ranges and walking paths scattered over what he guessed to be about two square miles. And perhaps the feature of the entire area that enjoyed the highest amount of activity was the concrete walkway encompassing the entire park. As it was already a fine summer day, there were several dozen walkers, bikers and rollerbladers taking advantage of the cool morning air. Chris sighed and thought how much he too would like to take advantage of some early morning exercise, and he was always curious as to just how long the actual path was. But with three young kids at home, and a morning schedule that only got worse when school started, it wasn’t going to be a possibility until they were much older. Besides, he lied to himself, there’s always the Tony Little Gazelle sitting at home.
He continued on his route to the office, stopping only at a quickie mart to grab a cup of coffee. He stopped most mornings at this place because they had pretty good French vanilla cappuccino which he used to make the coffee at work somewhat drinkable. He was not a macho “I drink my coffee black” kind of guy, so he needed the sweet flavoring to mask the taste of the mass produced swill that passed for coffee at his work place. And, to make matters worse, the pots were the big metal kind so there was always a metal aftertaste to it which no amount of sugar and cream could completely mask.
A few more stop lights and he finally turned into the parking lot of his job. “Another day, another dollar,” Chris mumbled to himself. He got out of the vehicle and made his way up the side walk and into the wonderful world of corporate America. The building he entered housed the headquarters for the world leading maker of automotive service equipment. They were responsible for inventing some of the most sophisticated, and expensive diagnostic equipment around and enjoyed a market share of business. He knew this to be true, because not only did he see a small portion of the total business that this company did on a monthly basis, he also knew what the general consensus of the customer base thought about the equipment. Chris knew there would always be a group of shop owners that would never be satisfied, but for the most part people either owned this brand of equipment for years or had a dream of owning it one day. Sort of like how there are certain people who are so convinced about the quality of a particular brand of vehicle they would never even consider buying anything else.
Considering all this, Chris often wondered why, if his company did so well, the building was still stuck in the art-deco style of the sixties and seventies. The campus, while generally very beautiful, consisted of plain white buildings with little or no decorative effect. In fact, the only saving grace for the entire complex was that no expense was spared on the landscaping. Sandwiched between the parking lot and the main building was a field of plush green grass that was about the size of three football fields. The side walk, which dissected the vast field, was edged with a row of trees on either side. But once that side walk ended the drabness of the building began. He did have to give them credit though; while the outside aesthetic of the building had gone unchanged for decades, they were making very drastic renovations on the interior of the building.
The main lobby was just redone in a more modern style. There was a gigantic half-moon reception desk and directly behind it a fifty inch plasma screen monitor that flashed the company logo as well as welcome messages to the various visitors expected for the day. On either side of the reception desk was a glass walled meeting room decked out with oak topped conference style tables and various electronic display devices. The remainder of the lobby was filled with plush, overstuffed leather furniture, solid dark maple coffee tables, and on one wall there was even a drink station complete with sink, coffee maker and mini-fridge.
As he walked through the exterior lobby doors, he nodded and smiled at the receptionist and waved his ID badge at the electronic lock to the main building doors. He made a bee line for the break room and was glad to see that there wasn’t anyone else in there yet. Chris wasn’t a morning person at all, but he was never rude to anyone. He always returned a “good morning” with a smile or polite “morning” of his own. He wasn’t anti-social by any means; he just didn’t care to have in-depth conversations with anyone until he had gotten his first cup of morning coffee into his system.
He filled up a little white Styrofoam cup and made his way through the maze of cubicles to the one he called his very own. The cubicles in his office building weren’t the kind that you would think of in the classic sense of the word. Usually, offices with cubicles are tightly packed with a chest high maze of little gray squares. The cubicles in Chris’ office were half wall and half glass. They consisted of about a waist high section of taupe colored material and the remainder was made of glass that ended about a foot from the ceiling. Chris had always thought it strange that this was the design of the cubicles. Depending on the configuration of the desks inside these cubicles, many people in the office had to stare at each other on a daily basis. And while it did promote office chatter throughout the day, which generally made for quicker days, he always thought it was rather annoying.
Unfortunately, this phenomenon affected Chris, but being a mid-level manager did have its perks. For years, he had been in control of whoever was placed in the office directly across from his. If a new person came in, or someone transferred into the department, he would simply reassign them to another cubicle. Currently, there was a single mom in her forties that occupied the office across from his. She was polite and friendly and had teenage daughters. So Chris constantly had conversations with her about the troubles that came up with raising not only teenagers, but teenage girls specifically. He had noticed that his own daughter, who was only seven years old, already had a sassy attitude and was completely enthralled with clothes, make-up and jewelry. He would comment about how he hoped this was a phase, probably naively so. To his dismay, he was informed that it would be much worse before it got better.
With coffee in hand from the break room, he walked into his office and sat down at his desk. He surveyed his space to make sure that everything was as it should be. His office was cluttered with paper. Part of his job was to process surveys to make sure that the equipment that his company sold would fit in various customer locations. Over the years, this mound of paper had a tendency to start to pile up. On that day, nothing seemed out of sorts with his various stacks of parchment so he turned his attention elsewhere.
He glanced at his phone to see if the voice mail light was on. It was not and he breathed an inward sigh of relief. An early morning message usually meant that an employee would be in late or not at all, and he wasn’t in the mood to have to answer incoming phone calls. He moved the mouse so that his PC screen saver would stop running and then logged in. The first thing he saw when he hit the enter button was and image of all three of his children.
Weeks earlier, Shonda had taken photos of all the children in the back yard and had them developed and blown up for an art project. Chris had sent them to his email so that he could use them as his desktop background. Nicholas, who they rarely got to actually pose for a picture, was lying in the grass with his head cocked to one side and a cute little smile on his face. Noah was standing with his back against a tree, looking off to one side with a giant toothy grin. And Savannah, who was the complete opposite of Nicholas when it came to photographs, was sitting on the ground in a pose reminiscent of a high fashion magazine: one shoulder thrust forward, her long blonde hair cascading about her shoulders, and a picture perfect Hollywood smile. He logged into all of his various programs and settled in for another day’s work.
He meandered through the subdivision of middle class homes with well manicured lawns. The houses were of various shapes and sizes. There were two story homes, ranch style houses and a variety of brick and siding choices. It was a typical suburban neighborhood. When they first moved in what Chris noticed almost immediately was that the average age of the residents was well beyond their own age. These were mostly families with high school aged children, if not college age. They were well established in their various careers and most of the women were stay at home moms and a fair amount of them had some sort of “enhancement” procedures done to their bodies. They were forever scheduling neighborhood association meetings of some sort, or someone was trying to schedule as mass play-date or event at the community pool. There were mom's clubs and “girls’ night out” clubs. It was an entire subdivision of people who liked to do almost the exact same things. Chris privately joked with Shonda that they had moved into a “Stepford” neighborhood. To himself, he thought that they had somehow gotten ahead of the game and should still be living in their first home, which was a much more modest split level house with a mortgage that was half of what they were paying now.
He passed by a few of the neighborhood’s morning walkers: an assortment of elderly ladies ambling down the streets and sidewalks and a sole dog walker being briskly lead down the road. As he drove, he fumbled with the radio. He wasn’t really searching for any station in particular, and settled for the local country station that he had awakened to earlier. He made his way out of the neighborhood and onto a series of back roads that would eventually lead him to a main expressway.
Their subdivision was directly next to a vast non-residential area that was still part of the greater metropolitan area, but was located between two major parts of town. It was a very beautiful part of the city that consisted of some farmland, a county park and an assortment of driving ranges, soccer fields and baseball fields. When they had moved to the new house, it only took Chris a few weeks to find out that he could cut his commute to work in half by taking the back roads, and he was pleasantly surprised that the scenery wasn’t too bad either.
He pulled onto yet another road which passed the edge of a large park and lake. This was the kind of park that consisted of several different smaller sections. In addition to the lake, which was by far the biggest and most popular attraction, there were several other pavilions, smaller playgrounds, driving ranges and walking paths scattered over what he guessed to be about two square miles. And perhaps the feature of the entire area that enjoyed the highest amount of activity was the concrete walkway encompassing the entire park. As it was already a fine summer day, there were several dozen walkers, bikers and rollerbladers taking advantage of the cool morning air. Chris sighed and thought how much he too would like to take advantage of some early morning exercise, and he was always curious as to just how long the actual path was. But with three young kids at home, and a morning schedule that only got worse when school started, it wasn’t going to be a possibility until they were much older. Besides, he lied to himself, there’s always the Tony Little Gazelle sitting at home.
He continued on his route to the office, stopping only at a quickie mart to grab a cup of coffee. He stopped most mornings at this place because they had pretty good French vanilla cappuccino which he used to make the coffee at work somewhat drinkable. He was not a macho “I drink my coffee black” kind of guy, so he needed the sweet flavoring to mask the taste of the mass produced swill that passed for coffee at his work place. And, to make matters worse, the pots were the big metal kind so there was always a metal aftertaste to it which no amount of sugar and cream could completely mask.
A few more stop lights and he finally turned into the parking lot of his job. “Another day, another dollar,” Chris mumbled to himself. He got out of the vehicle and made his way up the side walk and into the wonderful world of corporate America. The building he entered housed the headquarters for the world leading maker of automotive service equipment. They were responsible for inventing some of the most sophisticated, and expensive diagnostic equipment around and enjoyed a market share of business. He knew this to be true, because not only did he see a small portion of the total business that this company did on a monthly basis, he also knew what the general consensus of the customer base thought about the equipment. Chris knew there would always be a group of shop owners that would never be satisfied, but for the most part people either owned this brand of equipment for years or had a dream of owning it one day. Sort of like how there are certain people who are so convinced about the quality of a particular brand of vehicle they would never even consider buying anything else.
Considering all this, Chris often wondered why, if his company did so well, the building was still stuck in the art-deco style of the sixties and seventies. The campus, while generally very beautiful, consisted of plain white buildings with little or no decorative effect. In fact, the only saving grace for the entire complex was that no expense was spared on the landscaping. Sandwiched between the parking lot and the main building was a field of plush green grass that was about the size of three football fields. The side walk, which dissected the vast field, was edged with a row of trees on either side. But once that side walk ended the drabness of the building began. He did have to give them credit though; while the outside aesthetic of the building had gone unchanged for decades, they were making very drastic renovations on the interior of the building.
The main lobby was just redone in a more modern style. There was a gigantic half-moon reception desk and directly behind it a fifty inch plasma screen monitor that flashed the company logo as well as welcome messages to the various visitors expected for the day. On either side of the reception desk was a glass walled meeting room decked out with oak topped conference style tables and various electronic display devices. The remainder of the lobby was filled with plush, overstuffed leather furniture, solid dark maple coffee tables, and on one wall there was even a drink station complete with sink, coffee maker and mini-fridge.
As he walked through the exterior lobby doors, he nodded and smiled at the receptionist and waved his ID badge at the electronic lock to the main building doors. He made a bee line for the break room and was glad to see that there wasn’t anyone else in there yet. Chris wasn’t a morning person at all, but he was never rude to anyone. He always returned a “good morning” with a smile or polite “morning” of his own. He wasn’t anti-social by any means; he just didn’t care to have in-depth conversations with anyone until he had gotten his first cup of morning coffee into his system.
He filled up a little white Styrofoam cup and made his way through the maze of cubicles to the one he called his very own. The cubicles in his office building weren’t the kind that you would think of in the classic sense of the word. Usually, offices with cubicles are tightly packed with a chest high maze of little gray squares. The cubicles in Chris’ office were half wall and half glass. They consisted of about a waist high section of taupe colored material and the remainder was made of glass that ended about a foot from the ceiling. Chris had always thought it strange that this was the design of the cubicles. Depending on the configuration of the desks inside these cubicles, many people in the office had to stare at each other on a daily basis. And while it did promote office chatter throughout the day, which generally made for quicker days, he always thought it was rather annoying.
Unfortunately, this phenomenon affected Chris, but being a mid-level manager did have its perks. For years, he had been in control of whoever was placed in the office directly across from his. If a new person came in, or someone transferred into the department, he would simply reassign them to another cubicle. Currently, there was a single mom in her forties that occupied the office across from his. She was polite and friendly and had teenage daughters. So Chris constantly had conversations with her about the troubles that came up with raising not only teenagers, but teenage girls specifically. He had noticed that his own daughter, who was only seven years old, already had a sassy attitude and was completely enthralled with clothes, make-up and jewelry. He would comment about how he hoped this was a phase, probably naively so. To his dismay, he was informed that it would be much worse before it got better.
With coffee in hand from the break room, he walked into his office and sat down at his desk. He surveyed his space to make sure that everything was as it should be. His office was cluttered with paper. Part of his job was to process surveys to make sure that the equipment that his company sold would fit in various customer locations. Over the years, this mound of paper had a tendency to start to pile up. On that day, nothing seemed out of sorts with his various stacks of parchment so he turned his attention elsewhere.
He glanced at his phone to see if the voice mail light was on. It was not and he breathed an inward sigh of relief. An early morning message usually meant that an employee would be in late or not at all, and he wasn’t in the mood to have to answer incoming phone calls. He moved the mouse so that his PC screen saver would stop running and then logged in. The first thing he saw when he hit the enter button was and image of all three of his children.
Weeks earlier, Shonda had taken photos of all the children in the back yard and had them developed and blown up for an art project. Chris had sent them to his email so that he could use them as his desktop background. Nicholas, who they rarely got to actually pose for a picture, was lying in the grass with his head cocked to one side and a cute little smile on his face. Noah was standing with his back against a tree, looking off to one side with a giant toothy grin. And Savannah, who was the complete opposite of Nicholas when it came to photographs, was sitting on the ground in a pose reminiscent of a high fashion magazine: one shoulder thrust forward, her long blonde hair cascading about her shoulders, and a picture perfect Hollywood smile. He logged into all of his various programs and settled in for another day’s work.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Well Water...Part Six
Chapter 3
Chris walked out the back door and down the steps of the deck in back of the house. As he reached the bottom, he turned around to latch the gate at the end of the stairs. He noticed Ranae sitting on the patio underneath the deck, smoking a cigarette. He smiled and waved and got into the family van. He began to back up out of the driveway that wrapped around towards the front of their home, all the while being careful not to hit his mother-in-law’s maroon 1980 Ford Astro van. As he maneuvered around it, he was grateful that he didn’t have to drive that piece of junk any more.
The “vehicle”, if you could call it that, showed every last day of its age. It was one of the very first mini vans ever produced: a boxy, un-aerodynamic, completely un-sexy vehicle. It reeked of utilitarianism. The van was covered in very unappealing maroon paint and had several rust spots on it. The largest and most noticeable were actually rust “holes” that ran along the very bottom edge of the sides. These holes gave the appearance that some giant movie monster with great menacing claws had tried to open the van up like a sardine can. The tires were all of different make and of different tread wear. They looked like they were about a day away from needing replacement. And the inside didn’t get much better. The air conditioner didn’t work, so the only relief from the heat on a hot day was to roll the windows down. The interior was filled with dust from cigarette smoke and the rear passenger seats and cargo section were crammed with various odds and ends: tools, buckets, tarps, clothing, rocks, etc. The van had not only been used as a work vehicle, but also a storage shed as well as a bedroom.
Chris shuddered at the memory of his last stint inside the vehicle. A few weeks prior, Shonda had signed the kids up for vacation bible school and had convinced Chris to just take her mom’s van to work. He reluctantly agreed, because ultimately his wife’s comfort was more important than his own. And she constantly made comments about how she hated driving the “hoopty” around on the few prior occasions when she used it to drop Savannah off at her tutoring sessions. Shonda was not a vain person in any sense of the word, however Chris completely understood what she meant. The thing was ugly, loud and hot and made all kinds of weird noises.
One day, when Chris had driven it to work he was pulling into the parking lot as incognito as he could in the old beater. As he surveyed the lot, he was hoping that he wouldn’t see anyone else walking in but was quickly disappointed to see a smattering of co-workers making their way towards the building. So he did the only thing he could do: he pulled in like he owned the place. Only as he was pulling into a spot, which was very near to where some female co-workers had stopped to chat, he had to make a sharper turn than normal. This caused the pump for the power steering fluid to start making a high pitched whining sound. So there he was, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible but failing horribly because the car was sounding like it was actually ready to explode. Luckily, no one in the lot at that time was paying attention, so he quickly walked in to the building.
And while no one noticed his grand entrance into the parking lot, what they did notice was that he hadn’t successfully placed his mother-in-law’s entire keychain into his pants pocket. Her key chain consisted of the standard “o” shaped ring that you worked your keys through as well as a small piece of black leather that had a pewter image of a horse’s head attached to it. That part of the key chain made its way entirely into his pocket. However, the dozen or so foot long leather tassels that also protruded from the little horse head did not make it into the confines of his pocket. Most people were polite enough to ignore it, or at least not comment on it. However there was that one individual who felt the need to say “Hey, is that a miniature cat-of-nine-tails in your pocket, or are you just happy to see us?” After that day, Chris removed the key that was necessary to start the vehicle from the key chain and put the rest of the key chain in the glove box.
Chris walked out the back door and down the steps of the deck in back of the house. As he reached the bottom, he turned around to latch the gate at the end of the stairs. He noticed Ranae sitting on the patio underneath the deck, smoking a cigarette. He smiled and waved and got into the family van. He began to back up out of the driveway that wrapped around towards the front of their home, all the while being careful not to hit his mother-in-law’s maroon 1980 Ford Astro van. As he maneuvered around it, he was grateful that he didn’t have to drive that piece of junk any more.
The “vehicle”, if you could call it that, showed every last day of its age. It was one of the very first mini vans ever produced: a boxy, un-aerodynamic, completely un-sexy vehicle. It reeked of utilitarianism. The van was covered in very unappealing maroon paint and had several rust spots on it. The largest and most noticeable were actually rust “holes” that ran along the very bottom edge of the sides. These holes gave the appearance that some giant movie monster with great menacing claws had tried to open the van up like a sardine can. The tires were all of different make and of different tread wear. They looked like they were about a day away from needing replacement. And the inside didn’t get much better. The air conditioner didn’t work, so the only relief from the heat on a hot day was to roll the windows down. The interior was filled with dust from cigarette smoke and the rear passenger seats and cargo section were crammed with various odds and ends: tools, buckets, tarps, clothing, rocks, etc. The van had not only been used as a work vehicle, but also a storage shed as well as a bedroom.
Chris shuddered at the memory of his last stint inside the vehicle. A few weeks prior, Shonda had signed the kids up for vacation bible school and had convinced Chris to just take her mom’s van to work. He reluctantly agreed, because ultimately his wife’s comfort was more important than his own. And she constantly made comments about how she hated driving the “hoopty” around on the few prior occasions when she used it to drop Savannah off at her tutoring sessions. Shonda was not a vain person in any sense of the word, however Chris completely understood what she meant. The thing was ugly, loud and hot and made all kinds of weird noises.
One day, when Chris had driven it to work he was pulling into the parking lot as incognito as he could in the old beater. As he surveyed the lot, he was hoping that he wouldn’t see anyone else walking in but was quickly disappointed to see a smattering of co-workers making their way towards the building. So he did the only thing he could do: he pulled in like he owned the place. Only as he was pulling into a spot, which was very near to where some female co-workers had stopped to chat, he had to make a sharper turn than normal. This caused the pump for the power steering fluid to start making a high pitched whining sound. So there he was, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible but failing horribly because the car was sounding like it was actually ready to explode. Luckily, no one in the lot at that time was paying attention, so he quickly walked in to the building.
And while no one noticed his grand entrance into the parking lot, what they did notice was that he hadn’t successfully placed his mother-in-law’s entire keychain into his pants pocket. Her key chain consisted of the standard “o” shaped ring that you worked your keys through as well as a small piece of black leather that had a pewter image of a horse’s head attached to it. That part of the key chain made its way entirely into his pocket. However, the dozen or so foot long leather tassels that also protruded from the little horse head did not make it into the confines of his pocket. Most people were polite enough to ignore it, or at least not comment on it. However there was that one individual who felt the need to say “Hey, is that a miniature cat-of-nine-tails in your pocket, or are you just happy to see us?” After that day, Chris removed the key that was necessary to start the vehicle from the key chain and put the rest of the key chain in the glove box.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Well Water...Part Five
Chris finished making the morning coffee. A full pot was called for these days as Shonda’s mother, Ranae, had taken up residence with them for an indefinite amount of time. She had asked her mother to come for a couple of reasons. Mainly, because Shonda actually wanted to spend a summer taking the children to various summer time activities; swimming, bible camp, tutoring sessions, etc. She had never before been able to do this because she was always running the daycare. Also, Ranae’s life had recently taken a downward turn. She was currently without a “fixed” residence and called the inside of her van home. She also got by from her friends and neighbors giving her some couch time as well as the use of a hot shower and television. But all in all she was actually quite content to live in a van down by the river, so to speak. Shonda, not wanting to see her mother resort to homeless status, offered her room and board in exchange for helping out with the daycare. She agreed and had been living with them for that last few months.
As he was waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, Bit came up and started to ask for something to eat in a very whiney voice the grated on Chris’ last nerve. In order to stop the steam kettle crescendo of high pitched squeal that was about to happen, he grabbed a bag of marshmallows from the pantry and handed him a couple. He knew it probably wasn’t the best of breakfasts, but with the sugar content of cereal these days, Chris figured he could have done much worse. Plus Nicholas would have all of the evidence consumed before Shonda made her way out of the bathroom. As Bit made his way back to the escapades of Timmy, Cosmo and Wanda, the final gurgling sputter that came from the Mr. Coffee announced that its task was complete.
Chris proceeded to make Shonda’s coffee exactly the way she liked it: two fingers of French vanilla creamer and top it off with Joe. He then walked down the hallway to the bathroom to make his morning delivery. It didn’t seem like much, Chris knew, but he had been taking Shonda her morning cup of coffee since forever and a day. It was a little thing, but it was a very important part of his morning ritual and he knew that he would probably be bringing her that cup until they were both wearing Depends and didn’t have any of their original teeth left. He slid up behind her, sat the cup down on the sink and softly kissed the back of her neck.
At about the time he was making his way back into the kitchen, their oldest son, Noah, was making his way downstairs. Noah’s morning ritual was very basic but consisted of three utterly necessary components; his Batman blanket, his Sponge Bob pillow and his chocolate milk. As he stumbled through the kitchen with the first two of these three essentials, his first words (as they always were) were “Chocolate milk?” Chris’ oldest boy was a choco-holic to the nth degree. It was the first thing he asked for in the morning and one of the last things that he asked for at night. And if he didn’t get it soon, real soon, he would let you know it. Chris always thought that he should just start making it the night before, ready for the exact moment that it was asked for. But this morning exchange had become just as much a part of Chris’ morning ritual as any of the other steps. He was quick on the draw and had a sippy cup full of the chocolate beverage ready in no time, and Noah was on his way into the living room.
Shonda had finished with her make up and was on her way into the living room to sit for a few brief moments before the first kids arrived for the day. Chris let the dog, Bella, down in the basement so that she would wake up Ranae (who had been sleeping on the couch) and be let outside. A few minutes later, the first children showed up and Savannah was on her way into the living room with a serious case of bed head. All appeared right with the world, or at least as right as it could be for a Tuesday, so Chris decided it was time for him to make the trek to work.
As he was waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, Bit came up and started to ask for something to eat in a very whiney voice the grated on Chris’ last nerve. In order to stop the steam kettle crescendo of high pitched squeal that was about to happen, he grabbed a bag of marshmallows from the pantry and handed him a couple. He knew it probably wasn’t the best of breakfasts, but with the sugar content of cereal these days, Chris figured he could have done much worse. Plus Nicholas would have all of the evidence consumed before Shonda made her way out of the bathroom. As Bit made his way back to the escapades of Timmy, Cosmo and Wanda, the final gurgling sputter that came from the Mr. Coffee announced that its task was complete.
Chris proceeded to make Shonda’s coffee exactly the way she liked it: two fingers of French vanilla creamer and top it off with Joe. He then walked down the hallway to the bathroom to make his morning delivery. It didn’t seem like much, Chris knew, but he had been taking Shonda her morning cup of coffee since forever and a day. It was a little thing, but it was a very important part of his morning ritual and he knew that he would probably be bringing her that cup until they were both wearing Depends and didn’t have any of their original teeth left. He slid up behind her, sat the cup down on the sink and softly kissed the back of her neck.
At about the time he was making his way back into the kitchen, their oldest son, Noah, was making his way downstairs. Noah’s morning ritual was very basic but consisted of three utterly necessary components; his Batman blanket, his Sponge Bob pillow and his chocolate milk. As he stumbled through the kitchen with the first two of these three essentials, his first words (as they always were) were “Chocolate milk?” Chris’ oldest boy was a choco-holic to the nth degree. It was the first thing he asked for in the morning and one of the last things that he asked for at night. And if he didn’t get it soon, real soon, he would let you know it. Chris always thought that he should just start making it the night before, ready for the exact moment that it was asked for. But this morning exchange had become just as much a part of Chris’ morning ritual as any of the other steps. He was quick on the draw and had a sippy cup full of the chocolate beverage ready in no time, and Noah was on his way into the living room.
Shonda had finished with her make up and was on her way into the living room to sit for a few brief moments before the first kids arrived for the day. Chris let the dog, Bella, down in the basement so that she would wake up Ranae (who had been sleeping on the couch) and be let outside. A few minutes later, the first children showed up and Savannah was on her way into the living room with a serious case of bed head. All appeared right with the world, or at least as right as it could be for a Tuesday, so Chris decided it was time for him to make the trek to work.
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