In the cool of the early morning I felt Little D elbow me in the ribs from her side of my small bed. The phone rang. It was my uncle.
“I hope you are bringing coffee to your grandmother, otherwise it means I’m going to have to do it.”
On my way.
“Can I go with you?!” Little D cried out. I nodded in my sleepy stupor and we stumbled out the door.
At the hotel room where my relatives gathered for breakfast my aunt said:
“We need to give you something that is NOT making the return flight to New Jersey.” I glanced over at my Uncle with a quizzical look. He had two square, brown boxes in his arms.
“What are those?” I asked.
“Cuckoo clocks. Two matching cuckoo clocks,” my Uncle said with a sweet smile on his face.
Oh. My. Gahd.
“And I told him, I said, ‘Don’t you think she was kidding when she asked you for those?’” my Aunt chuckled as the boxes were placed before me.
“You thought I was serious?!!” I squealed while opening the boxes holding the beautifully carved, ornate clocks.
A few months prior while my Uncle was waiting for his plane to Geneva for one of his conferences he emailed me from his Blackberry: “Going to Geneva. Can I get you anything?”
And, teasing him like I always do, I responded: “Yes. I’d like two matching cuckoo clocks, please. Thanks.”
Perhaps I should have asked for John Calvin himself. Then maybe he’d know I was kidding.
“So where are you going to put two matching cuckoo clocks in that little apartment? On either side of your formal dining room?!” my Aunt continued laughing.
Heck if I know. But they are beautiful clocks, anyway, and I am excited to get them put together. I’ve made a few attempts and well…I’m not so skilled in that arena, I’ve discovered.
A few seconds after my grandmother told me that I don’t have any fashion sense but she’d still like my opinion on her suit for the wedding even though she will probably not listen to it, someone asked where Lindsey and Sam were and Little D piped up:
“They’re at the hospital!”
Silence.
“WHAT?!” we all cried out.
“Sam’s got poison oak. They’re at the Emergency Room.”
How our little ADHD princess obtained information I failed to gather startled me. .
“Yeah, he’s got that stuff he had before--- rashes all over his body. He was sick all night…he was crying this morning because it’s contagious,” Lindsey said, sounding tired.
Sam contracted a contagious skin rash the day before his wedding and subsequent honeymoon? Could the world be any crueler or more humorous?
We all felt awful.
With my other siblings standing in a circle, our eyes wide, mouths open, we shared the news. Then most of us stifled small laughs.
“This is horrible, I feel so bad for them, but at the same time…” my sister Amy said biting her lips, “It’s…”
“A little funny,” my brother Landon agreed, trying to hide the grin that shows his deep dimples. I made no such attempts and just burst into a giggle, little jerk that I am.
“How did he even get poison oak? He hasn’t been hiking!”
“I’m sure he got it from the wind. When the wind blows you never know what you might get on you,” my grandmother said shrilly from where she sat glowering on the couch.
This woman, whom I love because she is my grandmother, wears something like black-colored eyeglasses instead of rose. Though she has been, and continues to go to, nearly every corner of the earth, has six never-been-incarcerated grandchildren as well as two sons who are great to her considering instead of hiring a babysitter she would just tie them to a bed, she rarely has a positive thing to say. “Now why doesn’t someone get these kids out of here?” she added.
To be continued….
“I hope you are bringing coffee to your grandmother, otherwise it means I’m going to have to do it.”
On my way.
“Can I go with you?!” Little D cried out. I nodded in my sleepy stupor and we stumbled out the door.
At the hotel room where my relatives gathered for breakfast my aunt said:
“We need to give you something that is NOT making the return flight to New Jersey.” I glanced over at my Uncle with a quizzical look. He had two square, brown boxes in his arms.
“What are those?” I asked.
“Cuckoo clocks. Two matching cuckoo clocks,” my Uncle said with a sweet smile on his face.
Oh. My. Gahd.
“And I told him, I said, ‘Don’t you think she was kidding when she asked you for those?’” my Aunt chuckled as the boxes were placed before me.
“You thought I was serious?!!” I squealed while opening the boxes holding the beautifully carved, ornate clocks.
A few months prior while my Uncle was waiting for his plane to Geneva for one of his conferences he emailed me from his Blackberry: “Going to Geneva. Can I get you anything?”
And, teasing him like I always do, I responded: “Yes. I’d like two matching cuckoo clocks, please. Thanks.”
Perhaps I should have asked for John Calvin himself. Then maybe he’d know I was kidding.
“So where are you going to put two matching cuckoo clocks in that little apartment? On either side of your formal dining room?!” my Aunt continued laughing.
Heck if I know. But they are beautiful clocks, anyway, and I am excited to get them put together. I’ve made a few attempts and well…I’m not so skilled in that arena, I’ve discovered.
A few seconds after my grandmother told me that I don’t have any fashion sense but she’d still like my opinion on her suit for the wedding even though she will probably not listen to it, someone asked where Lindsey and Sam were and Little D piped up:
“They’re at the hospital!”
Silence.
“WHAT?!” we all cried out.
“Sam’s got poison oak. They’re at the Emergency Room.”
How our little ADHD princess obtained information I failed to gather startled me. .
“Yeah, he’s got that stuff he had before--- rashes all over his body. He was sick all night…he was crying this morning because it’s contagious,” Lindsey said, sounding tired.
Sam contracted a contagious skin rash the day before his wedding and subsequent honeymoon? Could the world be any crueler or more humorous?
We all felt awful.
With my other siblings standing in a circle, our eyes wide, mouths open, we shared the news. Then most of us stifled small laughs.
“This is horrible, I feel so bad for them, but at the same time…” my sister Amy said biting her lips, “It’s…”
“A little funny,” my brother Landon agreed, trying to hide the grin that shows his deep dimples. I made no such attempts and just burst into a giggle, little jerk that I am.
“How did he even get poison oak? He hasn’t been hiking!”
“I’m sure he got it from the wind. When the wind blows you never know what you might get on you,” my grandmother said shrilly from where she sat glowering on the couch.
This woman, whom I love because she is my grandmother, wears something like black-colored eyeglasses instead of rose. Though she has been, and continues to go to, nearly every corner of the earth, has six never-been-incarcerated grandchildren as well as two sons who are great to her considering instead of hiring a babysitter she would just tie them to a bed, she rarely has a positive thing to say. “Now why doesn’t someone get these kids out of here?” she added.
To be continued….
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