(streching across four jobs at this point) gifted. tomorrow i meet
betty, we'll hang out at the mall, kvetch, drink coffee, and play in
the sink at bath and body works. meg is taking mom tomorrow (we have
been pressed into babysitting service until her blood sugar stabilises
and she 'exhibits competence' with routine maintenance -- in other
words, considering mommy, perpetuity -- per her doctor, who has her
scheduled with a different endocrinologist in a few weeks).
i met meg and mom for dinner after i'd run my errands at the
cheesecake factory (oh, no; mommy is out of luck,
cheesecake-eating-wise, fear not), and they were having a promotion
where if one were to buy a stuffed bear for twenty-five dollars, then
you'd get a 'free' twenty-five dollar gift card. put another way, one
is buying the stuffed bear for the amount of tax on the gift card. i
told meg that i was going to get a cheese bear (meg hates it when i
call squooshable 'squibbly-cakes', so i enjoy annoying her by leaving
off 'cake' from words, under the guise of humouring her preference to
not hear the word 'cake', when in reality she says that i 'sound gay'
when i talk to squooshable like that. she actually thinks that most of
my cats' nicknames are 'gay', though i personally like 'the vicar of
squibbly'; how is that gay?), and i sent multiple texts to meg about
getting a cheese bear (none of which clarified what a 'cheese bear'
was; i am obnoxious like that) as we were waiting to be seated and she
was taking mummers on a walk around the plaza to get some exercise.
meg does things like that, where i expect mom to be largely
self-maintenancing (foolish me); with meg babysitting, mummers' blood
sugar stays around 100...with me in charge, it sneaks up to 220-ish
before i realise she's turned back into the irritable old witch i know
and love, and make her drink water and take walkies.
sigh. yes, i am actually talking about my own mother as if she were a
springer spaniel; what of it?
butsoanyway.
so when i was buzzed for all of us to get sat, i paged meg and showed
her the cheese bears, then she just got flat-out irritated, saying
that she has nothing against the word 'cake(s)', which confused the
hell out of mom, and i was just dying laughing, leaving meg to explain
to mom what was going on...bwahaha. oh, i crack me up.
ok, so finally i decide to get a cheese bear, 'cos it's like, two
dollars. meg said that if i ever buy another stuffed animal for her,
she's donating it. i told her that if she so much as *looks* like she
is going to donate the Mumble i had to scrap and fight to get for her
when Happy Feet came out, i was going to kill her where she stood.
oh, come on -- those things were selling for $250 on eBay towards the
end, and i paid TWENTY DOLLARS EACH for them, and i had to fight
through a horde of psychotic women to get them!
i am not *ever* a psychotic woman. i heard that.
anyway, so i go up to the front to buy my cheese bear before we pay
(so that i can use the gift card), and can you believe -- in that
short period of time, the cheese bear i wanted had been sold out! they
only had the white cheese bears with the blue cheese bear baseball
caps on, where i'd had my heart set on the brown cheese bear with the
red cheese bear sweater. bastards.
it is like a conspiracy. srsly.
so i sulked back to the table and made up words to fit the piped-in
carols just to annoy meg...my improvised lyrics being all to the point
of not having a cheese bear. like, 'it's the most wonderful time of
the year...if you have a cheese bear that is, which i do not, and so i
am quite sad...here at the most wonderful season of all...for those
owning cheese bears, of which i don't number, things must seem so
swell...like the most wonderful time of the year'.
well, mummers was laughing. i am actually pretty good at making up my
own lyrics extemporaneously. really -- it's a talent, one of my few.
and for the record, as i explaned to meg, i think donating a cheese
bear is not a very good donation, unless the gift card were included;
i mean, it is branded all over with 'the cheesecake factory', so
without the gift card, that is like an after-thought pseudo-gift,
which strikes *me* as being a tad tacky. but that is just my humble
opinion, and meg disagrees, feeling instead that anything one gives
(in new condition) is a good donation.
so then i rode with meg and mom to a nearby subdivision that'd been
shown on the news because of the decorations, and now i am home. whee.
we did (finally) get word that my brother's application for a
sabbatical-like leave from the army has been approved, so he will be
moving next june-ish to this research/teaching appointment. this came
as a big relief to us, because as far as pushing his career forward,
this is a boost, and he deserves it. not that i am biased, or
anything. :-)
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