Pop likes his meals on time, on his time. Sometimes if I have an errand to run when he needs his lunch, I'll pack him a sack lunch to take in the vehicle so he can eat on the road. Sitting comfortably in shot gun position I hear the following:
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle; paper bag open.
Unlock the zip lock bag and take a bite of sandwich.
Ziiiiiiiip the bag back up.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag closed.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take another bite of sandwich.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag closed.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take a bite of chips.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take a bite of chips.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Paper bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take a bite of chips.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Then I hear crinkle, crinkle, crinkle and the sack is placed neatly in his lap. He has completed round one.
15 minutes later:
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle; paper bag open.
Unlock the zip lock bag and take a bite of sandwich.
Ziiiiiiiip the bag back up.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag closed.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take another bite of sandwich.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag closed.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take a bite of chips.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take a bite of chips.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Paper bag opened.
Ziiiiiiiip. Take a bite of chips.
Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Zip lock back into the sack.
By this time I want to just scream, "Eat the whole darn sandwich! Eat the whole bag of chips! Please, can the sound effects and put the darn empty sack on the floor! ... But I don't.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
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Judy - just caught up on your blog after several days in CA with my Dad for his birthday and Easter. I always enjoy the little bits of life you share! Aging does bring its challenges - for ALL of us! ;>
ReplyDeleteOn Thursday, we set out to go on a day-long site-seeing trip to SF, which my dad loves, and I assumed I was driving, because I had fought that battle a couple of times previously, and won. So, I considered it a done deal. No way.
As we walked to the car, I cheerfully said, "So, I'll be the chauffer, and you can handle the Tom Tom and be the navigator!" He gripped the car keys tightly and said, "No, I'm driving today." I pleaded with him and explained that if I drove he could play with the Tom Tom and we could both relax and just talk without him having to worry about the roads or traffic, and I told him that I could not relax and enjoy the day otherwise, he insisted, "I don't want to talk about it, Betsy. I'll drive." We had planned this day for a few weeks, the highlight of my visit, and not wanting to ruin the trip, I caved.
I really thought it might be my last day on earth and spent the day praying fervently that God would protect us, or at least not have us take any innocent people with us as my dad changed lanes without once checking his blind spot (he doesn't think he has one), signaling or even checking his mirrors. He drove right through a stop sign, almost took out a cement trash container on the right curb, veered into the next lane while fiddling with putting on his seat belt at 50 mph - almost hittin a car right next to us and never even acknowledged my scream - and played with programming his Tom Tom while he was driving. He sometimes looked more at what was happening on the screen of the GPS than he did at the road, and twice I had to cry out with increasing volume, "They're stopping, Dad . . . DAD, they're Stopping . . . S-T-T-O-P-P!!!!" as traffic on the freeway came to a halt in front of us, and he was oblivious.
He ignored the flow of traffic around him as though he was the only one on the road: 40 mph on 280, 45 mph on a 25 mph mountain curve at the edge of Highway 1. I just kept praying, "Dear Jesus, please don't let us die, don't leave my husband a widow and my kids and grandkids without me. Don't let us hit anyone!" He used the Tom Tom (at FULL volume – so great for conversation) for each leg of the trip, even parts that he knew full well, since he's been driving those roads for 50 years.
He loved "tricking" the lady on the Tom Tom- "Now watch, she wants me to turn right here, but I'm not going to do it!" he says in a conspiratorial tone, and drives past the turn. "Now watch, she's going to figure it out right away, she's really smart, and see, now she's figured out another way for me to get home!" His eyes are glued to the Tom Tom and I'm gripping the door handle, eyes darting around to see if a collision is imminent, with my long purse strings wrapped around my body so that if we get in a crash, they'll know how to notify my next of kin, thinking, "But what will happen tomorrow when I don't show up for my scheduled lunch date with my friends? And how will anyone find my files at work on that project I was working on?"
Resolved: I will never again plan a trip with my Dad without clarifying at the very beginning that it will only happen if I am at the wheel. Otherwise, we'll watch TV and play on the computer all day. And when I get too old to drive, I will listen to my kids when they ask for the keys. And live to tell about it!
Betsy, you need to write a blog!Hahahahahaha. I laughed out loud when I read your story. That is awful! What do we do with our elderly parents when they won't accept the fact that age has taken them down and they've got to accept it? I'm like you. I pray that I will remember everything that my parents did and do just the opposite when I'm elderly.
ReplyDeleteJudy, as I age I hope my kids follow my instructions to take me out to West 290 and drop me off..just make sure I am facing west. If my Michelle is still alive she is to be on a leash and it will be placed in my hand.
ReplyDeleteI will start walking west into the sunset! Anything less then that and I will be unhappy!
Ain't that the truth. I just hate this getting older stuff. I thought I was going to be young forever. What happened?
ReplyDeleteThis blog was one of my favorites. and Betsy's story was also one of my favorites...OH MY GOSH
ReplyDelete