Therapeutic musings mixed with humorous ramblings and sometimes spiritual notations of life as I know it in written form. A diary of my heart inspired by life.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures
I watch my Dad and ask myself…. “Why didn’t I inherit that
gene?!” He is meticulous, I am not, actually that should be read as… I AM NOT!
And, he is the Energizer Bunny on steroids…. I AM NOT! The man never slows down….
NEVER! Whatever he does, he strives to do it better and faster than anyone. He
was a manager of Safeway for years in Tulsa
and the assistant manager of Homeland when they moved here. He could out check,
out sack and out stock all of the employees combined. When I was growing up, he
worked endless hours. Mom would occasionally take him lunch or dinner and
literally stand over him in the back room to make sure he slowed down long
enough to eat. The one thing I did inherit from him (besides his ADD) is his
ability to inhale a meal in 2.5 seconds flat… We both will finish our meals
before anyone else has their silverware unwrapped. The older I’ve gotten, the
more laid back I’ve become; not him. Sunday while Mom was napping, I was just
sitting around reading my Kindle and to his credit, he did try to make himself
be still, he’s just an utter failure at it. Now keep in mind that I’m not
blogging anything I haven’t confessed to him so hang on to your Sunday best….
He was getting on my last nerve. He fidgeted, grunted and groaned, he was in
and out of the recliner so much I thought he was going to wear the gears out. I
thought “Good Lord, he needs to bring it down a notch.” One morning during
breakfast he mentioned he was on his 8th,8th! Cup of coffee. No wonder he stays wound up. So,
morning after a particularly bad night, I walked through the kitchen,
picked up the Xanax bottle (I warned you to hang onto your hat), opened up his
thermos and dropped it in. Every time I walked through the kitchen, I would
shake the thermos so he wouldn’t see little blue flakes floating around his
cup. When I left for work, I had a little smirk and thought to myself… “I’ll
fix his knickers.” Ha! When I came home for lunch, he was whizzing through the
house like an Oklahoma
tornado. I sat by Mom’s side as we watched him fly in and out of the room. I
asked Mom…. “How’s Dad been today?” She smiled that sweet little 3 year old
smile she has now, and kind of cocked her head and said…. “He’s been pretty
good. Why? Did you have a talk with him?” I laughed then whispered in her ear
my devious action. She snickered as she promised not to tell our little secret.
About that time he broke out in disjointed vocal expression in the kitchen. Mom
looked at me and said… “What is that?” (she has been so funny lately). I told
her it was Daddy’s attempt at singing. I called out and asked him if we needed
to call EMT crew again. Trust me with my Mom and I together he hasn’t got a
chance. LOL! I asked him if how much coffee he had that morning and he told me
he had drank the whole thermos. Dangit! The Xanax didn’t even take the edge off
his energy. I looked at Mom and told her next time I’d try two. Hey! Don’t
judge me. Desperate times call for desperate measures.