Last month, my sister phoned. Understand, my sister, my Mom and I speak on the phone at least three to infinite times a day. This call was "special". "Laura, Mom will be 85 years old this year. You and the family should come home for a birthday party." Donna was absolutely RIGHT! My daughter and my grandchildren were not available, but my son and I took a road trip.
We endured orange barrels, lane closures through Ohio and Pennsylvania where we could only drive 45-55 miles an hour. We wrestled with our music tastes - Driver Picks. So, I tried to do most/all of the driving...I like my music better than Nick's. No matter how old I am, as the miles between Kettering and Tipp City, Ohio and Wayne, New Jersey diminish, I become younger. By the time we pull into the "Honeymooners'" driveway, I am a child...ALWAYS. This trip was NO different!
Having driven through the night, we arrived with the sun in the morning. Dad: "What's the matter with you? Why did you drive in the dark? Sometimes, I don't understand you!" I think that was "hello"? Mom: "Vic, stop it! Let me make you breakfast!"
Let me tell you something. When you think that you and your child might not be on the same page, go and visit YOUR parents. I found an ally in my son, Nick. Crazy dynamic, but so true! "Well, Grandpa, Mom had to wait for me to get out of work and I worked late." Dad: "Then why didn't you leave this morning?" The child in me: "Dad, then we wouldn't be here until evening. We only have until tomorrow night, so we thought we'd get a jump on it!. Nice to see you too!" As if I was not sitting there: "Ang, (short for Angie/ Angela) she's always got an answer! Wise guy answers, not necessarily smart ones!" "Vic, stop it! Let me make you two some breakfast, or do you want to take a nap?" "You know, Mom, I'd love coffee and a shower. How about I make some for you two and while its's brewing, I'll shower and change." Dad: "Don't touch anything! I'll make coffee, go bring your bags upstairs. Why do you have so much with you? Can't you travel light? You haul more stuff in here, where'll we put all of this?"
Let me tell you something else. My parents live in a huge, split level house. Two car garage, complete full family room with fireplace and a powder room on the bottom level. The main floor holds the living room, formal dining room in which you just might squeeze in a battalion of soldiers, their wives, children, parents and a few assorted neighbors. The kitchen sports counters and appliances on two walls and we have had eight eating around the kitchen table with room to invite a friend for each of us. On the upper level, there is a hallway with a full bathroom, three bedrooms and the master bedroom at the end of the hall comes with its own full bathroom. The bedrooms are large enough to need GPS to find a roommate, should you have one. Only my parents live there...NO ONE ELSE!!! "Gee, Dad, if there's no room for my bags (one Anne Klein over-nighter, one Toys R Us tote bag with book and needlework, one lap top case), I'll just leave them on the patio and get my things from there when I need them." Did I mention the patio is the size of a large disco and from there, you will see an acre of the great outdoors that is legally theirs? "Ang, here she goes again!" "Vic, stop it! Let me make you breakfast! Go settle in and coffee will be ready when you come down!"
Let me tell you something else. My Dad, aka "Chaunce" or "Sludge" takes pride in non-service in his palazzo - "Sludges Bath House". Sludge "took our reservation" when I told my Mom that we were coming. His "price list" is simple. Clean bathwater: $5.00; recycled water: $3.00; stand out in the rain - FREE. Clean towel: $3.00, cheapskates air dry - FREE. You want soap? $.50. There is a general nuisance tax which usually runs from $150.00 - $300.00. This has been a running joke for years. But, after we showered, changed, descended the stairs: "Geez! How long do you shower? You like to see the meter spin? Ang, I think that she just stood there and watched the water run! Nobody takes that much time! And HIM (referring to his grandson) - what do you do, take a shower to re-shower and then do it all over again? What do you people do up there?" "Vic, stop it! Here, have some coffee and breakfast!"
Let me tell you something else. The man who never knew where the kitchen was in his house, is not the Kitchen Master! Only he can make and pour the coffee. Only he can move around dishes. Forget about helping him clear. Don't touch his dishwasher - "Laura! You don't know how to run that!" Now, we were feeling a little guilty having a woman who was turning 85 the next day, and an 86 year old (87 in January) wait on us! True, they are healthy and active, but still..."Hey! What do you think you're doing with that jar? Just put it down! Why are you throwing that paper in the garbage? That's recycle!" "Vic, stop it! Here, I'll have a little more coffee!"
Let me tell you something else. My Dad is a self-[proclaimed recycle freak! The biggest threat that anyone could make to him is to wave an aluminum can over his garbage can! "That's recycle! Just leave it!" I swear that he starches and irons his cereal boxes before folding them neatly for recycle. He makes at least three trips to the Wayne Recycle Center daily! I wonder if he has a card that gets punched as a "frequent recycle flyer"?
"Dad, can I borrow your WWII helmet for Todd?" (my 10 year old grandson) "What the hell? You two going to war or something? Ang, I told you she's wacky! She needs a helmet. Eh...I've seen her drive!" UGH..."Dad, Todd is studying WWII and he told the teacher that you have a helmet. He wants to bring it in. I will stay with it. I'll to to school with him, carry it, show it, the works." "Ang, if she had a job, she wouldn't have time to go to the fourth grade again! You need to focus on a career!" "Vic , Stop it! Can I get anyone a snack?"
Let me tell you something else. There is a fabulous framed composite of my grandfather - Ralph the Barber in his WWI uniform in the same frame as the one of my Dad in his WWII uniform. "Dad, can I make a copy of the picture of you and grandpa for Todd to bring to school?" I could see my mother and son wince. I mean, I'll stay with it. I'll go to school with him, I'll carry it, show it, the works." Ang, here we go again...why don't you get a job?"
My nephew and niece happened to come in at this point. Jeremy tried to copy the pictures, but the copier only had black ink...no good. My Dad then had to go to the pharmacy. Jeremy reminded me of a place right next to the drugstore that copies! "Hey Dad, do you want me to drive you to the shopping center? You go to the pharmacy, I'll go to the copy guy."
Let me tell you something else. This man is a tire kicking fanatic! He took a look at my new car. Oh no! "What's that? A parking lot?" He noticed a tiny scrape. "Wait a minute...yeah, this can be compounded out. Why did't you compound this?" "Dad, I will." "When did you have the oil changed last?" It'll be due when I get back...well, maybe a week or so after." Then he started kicking tires." How often do you rotate the tires?" "I don't know. Whenever the oil is changed, I think they're rotated. Here, Dad, hop in!" "Nothing doing! I'll drive!" "Dad, do you want to drive mine?" "I drive my own car! Let's go!"
We returned to Jeremy's dilemma. He is the President of his fraternity. my father just was not going to let that go by: "Jer, what's wrong with you? You're majoring in Beer Parties and Shenanigans!" Jeremy's dilemma: He was going to a Cowboy and Indian themed party that night. He purchased a headdress. Evidently, he was going to be an Indian. Mom had some fabric. Nick fashioned a loin cloth. He fringed it, Mom ironed it. Tori (my 16 year old niece) is a champion eye roller. She is an eye roller with a sense of humor that does not quit. Jeremy put on his loin cloth. "I think I'll take off the boxers. "Gee Jer, " volunteered Tori, "how about Disney Princess boxers under your skirt? Ignoring her, "Hey, Aunt Laura! I picked up beads...no shirt, just beads!" "Great!" I offered. "And, if you want war paint, three red lines on your forehead, three red lines on your chin and three red lines down each cheek!" My mother hustled up the stairs and said, "I'll get a nice red lipstick and Laura will get to work!" That pushed Tori over the edge. "Yeah, Jeremy, big brother - wear your cute mini skirt, lipstick and jewelry to your party with a feather hat!" Dad' s offering: "You people are all wacky! I thought that Laura was the wacky one, but you're all nuts!" Spoken by the guy who neatly arranged his recycle cans before yet another trip to recycle! "Vic, stop it! Who wants to nibble something? Vic, go downstairs and bring up a few more cans of soda!"
Let me tell you something else. My parents have a refrigerator and wall of shelves (home to cans of food, just in case, in their garage. So, returning from the garage with two cans of Coke: "Hey Ang, what'll we do with this?" It was a jar of Vodka sauce for penne. "Vic, I bought it, but I don't like it so dark red." This made Nickie Neat Nick nuts! Well, what should I do with it?" I jumped in. "Dad, you know, I'll take it if no one wants it. Here Nick, put this in my bag with the helmet." My son grabbed the jar, raced out of the chaos. That Band-Aid fell off quickly. "Ang, what is that can of tomato puree doing down there? You use crushed tomatoes, what is that for?" Sighing, Mom said, "Donna left it I guess when she moved out. Just leave it." Not a good answer. "It takes up too much room! I want to get rid of it!" I was lucky once, so, I jumped in, yet again, "Dad, I'll take it. It'll clear your shelf, you don't have to use it and I'll find a use for tomato puree. Remember, Nick and I are working on a cookbook?" OUCH! "Now, I can't give that to you! It's Donna's" (By the way, Donna denies ownership of a can of tomato puree) "Vic, stop it! Would anyone like a snack before your parties kids?" Both had destinations out of Wayne for the evening.
Mom wanted Chinese Take Out for dinner. Nick stayed home with his grandmother. Luck Me! "Go with Daddy." He drove his Chariot. I wasn't going into the car abyss again! So, we got to The China Kitchen. The clerk smiled and was helpful when I asked for chop sticks. "Don't you use a fork anymore?" I assured my Dad that wacky people gave up forks for the month of September an that I was an avid follower. He just shook his head
.Let me tell you something else. No matter what...NO LEFT OVER CHINESE allowed! We were getting full. As poor unsuspecting Nick covered containers to place in the refrigerator...well, it was not pretty. "Whoa! What do you think you're doing? No, No! No take out leftovers in my refrigerator! He said that he'd take the food home with his Packanack Pizza and New Jersey water when we left. That calmed the beast. As Dad went through his rant about left overs, Mom interrupted, "Vic, stop it! Who wants some coffee and apple pie?"
Let me tell you something else. If my parents think that I am still a child, they believe that their grandson is still a baby. Dan (brother-in-law) pointed that out after the following story:
I was tired rather early and went to my room (actually, it had been my sister's). I had my phone charging, read for a while, turned out the light and fell asleep. I evidently was "the good one". Nick, having ignored 43 e-mails to participate in family ":fun" and a plea for talent releases needed the next day, thought that he'd use the family room to watch a little television, do some work. My parents went to bed...yeah, sure. at about 10 P.M. "It's bedtime! Why is the TV on?" So, even though they were two flights up and the thing was practically on "mute", off went the television...house rules. Twenty minutes later: "Hey, do you have shares in Public Service (electric company)? It's bed time, turn off the lights!" Lights off. In the dark, using battery power on the laptop, not using any electricity at all, Nick heard my Mom come down the stairs (two flights in the dark), "It's bed time! You shouldn't be up now! You need to get some sleep!" If Dan is right, she very well could have picked him up, put him on her shoulder, sat in the rocking chair and sang "Sonny Boy" to him like she used to sing to get him to sleep!
Saturday morning...HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM! The morning brought my niece and nephew with the cake that my sister baked for Mom's birthday! The top layer had split into quarters with a two to three inch crater criss-cross. Oh boy. My sister, not yet there, called : "The kids have the cake. I have to teach a class and I'll be over at about 4:30ish with Dan and Danny. Fix the cake!" Now, my parents did not want to to go my sister's for dinner; nor, did they want to go out. My Mom had done the preparation for dinner ahead. My Dad was captaining the kitchen when the cake carrier came in with the disabled Birthday Cake. "Why did she want to bake a cake? She can't bake! Why didn't she order one? What do you think that you're going to do with it?" Yep, directed at me. "Dad, anyone can go into a store, plunk down money and buy any old cake. When a cake is baked at home, it's done with love and with the thought of the recipient." Now, even I wasn't swallowing that one. "Vic, stop it! Leave the girls alone! They're getting along. Does anyone want anything before the kitchen becomes a bakery?"
Let me tell you something else. This is the man who wanted to buy dueling pistols for my sister and me for Christmas. You would think that he'd be relieved with the spirit of cooperation,good will and happy feelings among all. You would think. After I removed the cover, he, hovering, said, "What do you think you're going to do?" "Mom, where is the hand mixer?" As I began to open a cabinet looking for frosting ingredients, "Whoa! Wait! Let me do that!" Dad was hopping on one foot. "Vic, stop it! Do you want a cup of coffee - Chaunce, Laura?" With an edge of frustration: "Mom, I want to make a batch of frosting to start. Let me see what else I can do with the crater." I said that as I opened the refrigerator. "Whoa! What do you think you're doing in there?" Letting that pass, I found a box of strawberries. Mom: "Oh poor Tori, those are her strawberries!" "Mom, give her the tomato puree and let me do this." Dad: "She's just a wise guy! Wacky! When are you going to get a job?"
Let me tell you something else. I deserve a black belt in FAMILY! By now, Tess, my granddaughter, home with my daughter called with her spelling words to practice; my grandson, Todd called to be sure I secured the helmet and to say "Happy Birthday" to Nana; and the youngest of the trio called to say he misses me. Jeremy was doing a play by play of the frat party - some girl took the headdress and Tori was distracted mocking him, forgeting the strawberries! I washed, dried, hulled the berries. Oooooops...I drained them on a paper towel.
Let me tell you something else. Never use an entire sheet of paper towel in Chaunce's kitchen...NEVER! "What? A whole paper towel? Why are you so wasteful? Are you rich? I forgot, you're broke. No job, so you come here to throw away paper towels!" Three guesses as to who said that. "Vic, stop it! Let Laura fix the cake! Does anyone want lunch?"
"Step back! I'll boil the spaghetti!" The chicken is in the oven, stand back! What the hell do you need candles for? What are you doing playing with matches. Don't touch that plate!" Dad was having a blast!
We gave Mom her gifts. We had dinner. There was one meatball left..that was the only leftover. "You people just don't eat!" was Dad's take on that.
We lit the candles. Before we sang the entire chorus of "Happy Birthday", Mom blew out the candles. I wanted a picture, so we did it again. She said, "I thought I was 85! Where are all of the candles?" Dad: "Ang, I would have had to turn on the Air-Conditioning!" I had been in charge of the candles and placement. "Mom,
the candle in the middle is Dad. The two on either side are Donna and me. The four outside of those are your grandchildren: Nick, Tiff, Jeremy, Tori. The three outside of those are Todd, Tess, Tanner." (great-grandchildren)
Let me tell you something else, once and for all. We were happy to be there. We were happy that both Honeymooners were there. Mom said that it was the best weekend ever. Mom also said that it was her happiest birthday ever.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM... and please God, 85 more!
WHO SAID YOU CAN'T GO HOME? It's the only place where you're one of their own!
