Sunday, July 30, 2006

My Sunday Morning

I woke up to a very black and scary looking sky, it was relatively cooler than it had been the day before. I sipped my coffee and toyed with the thought of the Birthday party we were going to attend early in the afternoon. Then there was thunder, lightning and it seemed night was rolling in. The phone rings, it is a call of distress, it's my car won't start? I'll come over and pick you up and we'll decide what to do, it's too early nothing is open. I brace myself and venture into the stormy weather, fearless and brave...wind lashing at my face. Ok, I was panicking and crapping my pants whilest lightning is flashing all around me. Terror is freaking me out, and I am questioning what the heck I am doing running around in this storm. Oh that's right my mom's battery is dead. I take her to my house and leave her to go change her battery. My dad was a mechanic, he owned foreign cars for the last 30 years of his life and I figure he would have some metric tools. I go into the garage, and the swearing begins. It's dark in the garage, oh there's lights by the front door, but nothing where I need it. I find a trouble light and extension chord, things are going great. I think the wattage on that bulb was 40 watts? So I lift the hood check it out and begin my hunt for tools, maybe just a wrench, a generic adjustable would work? I find open end wrenches in American sizes but nothing in metric, this sucks. I am sweating and my asthma isn't being helped by this venture...I find a pliers that came from the Ark. I get the post clamps off and the battery holder, pull the battery out and off to the store I go. While I am in the checkout, my phone rings, it's my brother. Hey what are you doing? I tell him he asks if I need help and I say no but if he knows where some metric tools are in this huge junky garage? He says he is coming over to fix mom's front door, I say bring tools. I put it all back together, the car starts all is good and then the caped crusader arrives in time with the proper tools. Now I love my brother alot but he is anal to the point that I almost branded his forehead with the 40 watt trouble light. When someone does something he has this unconcious habit of undoing what they did and redoing it to be sure it's right. No one can do anything right but him. This pisses me off and he doesn't think he did it and I was watching him!!! We exchange nasty glares and I am holding the trouble light and his forehead is about 4" away....I take a deep breath and I mention the fact that I should press this on his head...and we both break out laughing. I really just wanted to deck him.......jerk!!!! I am making him a cape!!! All is well, seeing as though HE did it right. I hope to have photos of the puppies with their new outfits on.

1 comment:

Betty said...

My Sunday morning. My brother calls to say my mom isn't doing well and is saying "I think I'm dying." Take her to the hospital. She won't go. I'll be there as soon as I can. Whip in the shower, pack up the dog, remember things I have forgotten to take there the last 100 times.

On the drive to Cudahy I make my plan. If she is as bad as my brother said she's going to the hospital.She gets one chance to say yes and if she doesn't I call 911.

I get there she is doing better. I have her drink power aid and she doesn't argue. Am I in the right house?

I talk with my brother more. He said she was really bad before I got there. I tell him sometimes you can't take no for an answer and just call the ambulance. And don't wait until she passes out either. I think to myself if he doesn't I'll call from my house and take the heat later.

2 hours later she is doing much better. Then I fess up and tell her if she was still in bad shape she was going to the hospital whether she liked it or not.

I think this scared her and she wasn't too bucky with me. I think she was dehydrated amongst recovering from cataract surgery and being dizzy.

Before I left I had my brother get more gatorade and when I talked to her the next day she said "my hands look plumper."

You gotta love them.