Not too long ago, on a regular Sunday visit to my folks’ house, my daughters and I entered the house and greeted the folks.
“I have something I need your help with,” Mom begins before we are even all in the room.
“Okay. What’s that?” I ask, putting my purse and things down on the table.
“I need curtains put up behind the drapes so we can have a little privacy when we open the drapes during the day. I bought the sheers and the curtain rod, but I can’t get your father to do it.”
Dad is sitting on the couch, reading the paper, and looks up when he hears this. “Do what?” he asks.
“Put up the sheers and the rod,” she answers.
“What rod is that?” he asks.
“The one I bought and asked you to put up last week,” she retorts.
Dad looks surprised and asks, ‘Did you ask me to put up something? Where do you want me to do it?”
“Behind the drapes! Like I said!”
“Oh,” says Dad, looking at the drapes. “That would be nice. We’d have a little bit more privacy when we open the drapes. Do I need to go get a curtain rod?”
Mom sighs exasperatedly and answers, “No. I have the rod. I have the curtains. What I don’t have is someone to put them up for me!”
“Well,” says Dad, pleasantly. “Maybe we can get the girls to help us.”
We affix the hardware to the frame behind the drapes that hang over the patio door. Then, we take the rod and start to put it in the holders. It doesn’t reach.
“Mom, the rod is not long enough.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it doesn’t reach from one side to the other.”
“Well, I bought the largest size they had. 84”. That should fit.”
“Tell you what. Let’s measure it,” says Dad.
“We don’t need to measure. You’re just putting it in wrong. They don’t make one any bigger, so it’s got to fit that door!” Mom snaps.
“Well, humor me,” Dad says, and goes after his tape measure.
We measure. 98”. Hmmm… Mom goes to her room in a huff.
“Why don’t I run to the store and get one that will fit?” I say, and off I go.
She was right. The place she went does not carry a larger rod of that type, even though larger rods are manufactured. So, I get two smaller ones with a plan in mind to make them work.
I get back, we all manage to get the two rods up and get the curtains on them. We open and close the drapes to be sure that the curtains behind them are not disturbed as that happens. Everything works just fine. The sheers hang on the rods I bought and don’t even show that we joined the rods together. Mom comes back in from the bedroom and looks at the job we’ve done.
“Well, I see you finally figure out how to get them up there. I told you that rod would work.”
Next day at work, the phone rings, and when I answer it, Mom says, brightly, "Hi, Honey. I just wanted to tell you what great time we had yesterday and how much we appreciate you all coming over."
Sweet as pie.
...Whattheheck..?!!? Am I on Candid Camera?
……………………………………………..
My mom remembers things that either did not actually happen or that happened in very different ways than she tells. Here’s a typical example…
As youngsters, many years ago (waaay many years ago!), my brothers and I had already formed many of our likes and dislikes; especially as relates to food. For instance, my younger brother, Brian, did not like Mexican or Tex-Mex food, and all of us knew that. Also, one of my brothers liked cake and the other liked icing. They gave each other the part they didn’t like. We all knew that, too.
My mom likes trying new recipes. A few years back, she made a recipe for a dish called Taco Soup. Now, by this time, all of us were grown and had left home. In fact, Brian had lived outside of the state for several years. Not too long ago – within the past 3-4 years - Mom told the family that, as a child, Brian loved Taco Soup. Never mind that Brian dislikes Mexican food, and never mind that he had not lived anywhere near us for many years, and never mind that Mom had only been cooking Taco Soup since well after Brian moved away. She still insists that Brian loves Taco Soup.
::sigh!:: Okay. Whatever.
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Mom has been going through things in her house to add them to the list of who gets what when she and Dad are gone. The other day, she called me at work. I answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Sharon, are you busy?”
“I am pretty busy at present. I’m trying to finish a report before lunch. Can I call you back?
“Well, this will only take a minute. Do you remember that bar pin?”
“I – what? Bar pin?” (Knowing I will be caught up in the chaos…)
“The blue one.”
“Blue?” Feeling like I’m about to be sorry…
“Yes, Sharon Lee! The blue one.” (oops – the dreaded peppery tone)
“Um, no. I don’t think so.”
“Mama’s blue bar pin, Sharon Lee! The one she and Megan always talked about.” (a bit more peppery)
(Totally lost.) “Oh. Ummm, that one.”
“Yes. Do you think Megan would want it?”
“Did you ask Megan?”
“I’m asking YOU. Do you think she would?” (pepper, pepper)
“Yes? I think that she probably would if she and Grandma talked about it. It’s likely to mean something to her, then.”
“All right. I’ll put that on the list for Megan.”
“Okay. That seems fine.”
“Why don’t you let her know when you see her tonight?”
“Mom, why don’t you tell her? You are the one who is leaving it to her.”
“Because I asked you to do it. You’d better get back to work. Don’t you have a report to do? I’ll talk to you later.” Hangs up.
Later that evening, I speak to my daughter:
“Megan, do you remember talking to Gaga about a blue pin she had?”
“No.”
“Your grandmother asked me about a blue bar pin that she says you and Gaga used to talk about. Does that ring a bell with you?”
“No. I don’t remember talking to her about any jewelry.”
“Well, your grandmother is leaving this pin to you in her will, and she thinks it is something that you will know all about.”
Megan looks at me for a moment.
“Taco Soup, Mom.”
Yep. I guess it is. And, that’s enough for today.
God bless!
