Great minds…or not

Tonight, after dinner, my dad, hubby and I sat around the dinner table, yakking about whatever odd subject came to mind. Somehow we happened upon the subject of drinks, namely Lemon Drops (delicious, delectable, devine Lemon Drops). I asked, "Do you know how to make a Lemon Drop?" In unison, like synchronized swimmers, dad and hubby put their left arms straight out to the side, with their hands first cupped downwards and then opened, as if they were holding and then dropping a lemon.

Groooaaannn!

How scary is it that they so eerily share the same warped sense of humor?

Pespective

A friend asked me yesterday if my finger had healed from its fracture. "Great news!" I cried, "I can make a fist again."

He paused and then, with a smile, said, "It might not be such good news for the person facing the business end of your fist."

I've been bragging about my accomplishment, the target of weeks of occupational therapy, never realizing the funny take on my proclamation. I wonder how many others might have wondered if I was taking up arms (literally)...

Questions and answers

Years ago, while living in Florida, I dated a guy named Henry*. Everything about him was neat and tidy. He organized his clothes in his closet by color and sleeve length. He owned 7 pairs of running shoes, one for each day of the week. He owned 2 cars; one for every day use, the other, his treasured shiny black Datsun 280Z, was for special occasions. I asked him once if I could drive the "Z". Oops, wrong question. He was shocked that I would dare to ask such a thing. His sister told me that he had never allowed anyone to drive it - ever. I shrugged it off as no big deal. After all, he had many other wonderful boyfriend qualities. He was big on romantic gestures. And I really liked his family.

After leaving a New Year's Eve party, he asked if we could stop at his house for a moment before he took me home. Under his Christmas tree was a large present. "Who is that for?" I asked. He grinned. "For me?" I cried with glee. What wonderful gift could be in this big box?

I tore off the wrapping, opened the box and found another wrapped present inside. Inside that one was another. And another and another until I was left with a shirt-box sized present. Inside that one was a ring made of plastic and masking tape with a diamond-shaped clear plastic "stone" on top. Along the curve of the ring, he had written, "Will you marry me?"

I was dumbfounded! We had barely been dating 3 months. We hadn't said "I love you" to each other. And he was asking me to marry him? I was flattered, of course, but marriage? Wow! That was completely unexpected. I slowly turned my gaze from the ring to his face. He was waiting for an answer, clearly thrilled that he had pulled off such a grandly romantic surprise. I marveled that he could look so sure of my answer when I had no idea what it would be. All kinds of responses whirled through my head. What would I say? Finally, I stammered out,

"Does this mean you'll let me drive your 'Z'?"

Wrong answer.

Four months later he was engaged to another woman. In less than a year, they were married and had a baby. I realized it wasn't me he was proposing to but marriage in general. The wrong answer was the right answer in retrospect.


*Not his real name, of course.

Humming right along

I can't sing. Seriously. I can not sing. Can't carry a tune, need a bucket (insert other colorful phrases to imply tuneless mouthing). I wish I could sing. Oh, I do alright in a crowd where I'm drowned out, but a solo? No, no, no, that would be cruel and unusual punishment for all those present.

I sing along to the radio in my car but only when I'm alone, the volume is loud and the windows are rolled up. I'll take the stares of strangers as they watch me mouth a song's words over seeing them cringe if they could hear me.

I sang to my kids when they were babies. Then they became toddlers and, in the characteristic bluntness of the young, they asked me not to sing to them anymore. My youngest even put his hand over my mouth, emphazing his request. Ouch!

Once upon a time, I think I must have been able to sing decently enough. At least, I think so since I was in choir in jr. high. However, somewhere along the way I lost what ability I had.

Maybe someday I'll take singing lessons and see if I can recover it. Chalk that up as another thing I'd like to do in my retirement years.

Whiplash!

I drove out of my neighborhood the other day, about a week after Halloween. I saw a few remnants of Halloween decorations and noted the pretty fall colors. And then a neighbor's display had me whipping my head around so sharply, I'm surprised I didn't get whiplash. I stared in amazement at the scene before me. I couldn't believe what I saw. Christmas decorations!!!! Halloween is barely over, Thanksgiving isn't even here yet and these people have Christmas decorations dotting the lawn and the house already. Holy freak-out!

Maybe I'm becoming a bit of a scrooge but I hate how the holiday season is intruding farther and farther forward into the year. It smacks of commercialism and it dilutes the joy and meaning of the season for me.

Bah, humbug!