Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Jean In Wonderland

Okay, if this doesn't say I love you, I don't know what does. This is a tale of woe about the love a girl has for her father, a sometimes very cantankerous old dude. It goes like this.

I'm at work when my phone rings. It's him, "Do you know where my keys are?" He starts in as if instead of sitting at a desk, in an office, pretending to work, I'm on the beach reclining in a lawn chair with a fruity drink in my hand and absolutely nothing on my mind. "Dad," -- I say, taking deep breaths -- "I have no idea where your keys are." Although I did see some keys in his office upstairs, but I hesitate to say anything because then I'd have to say how I'd seen his keys in the drawer when the drawer was supposed to be closed. Against my better judgement, "I did see some keys in the desk drawer in your office." I rushed to add, "I was using your computer and looking for a pen." Not trying to steal your property. The key incident should have forewarned me that he was getting ready to leave the house. However, I forgot to mention it to Jean, who was on her way over for a friendly visit. I got distracted by something on my desk and was oblivious to anything else.

So apparently Jean shows up at the house. After knocking a few times with no response from inside, she calls him on her cell. And still no answer. Alarms go off in her head. What if he's fallen and can't get up? His blood sugar could have dropped and maybe he's laying in a diabetic coma. She becomes frantic and decides that perhaps she should look for a way into the house. This causes her to do the unthinkable. The brush around the sides of dad's house has literally turned into the Amazon jungle. Because of untold dangers, i.e. slugs, dog poop, raccoon poop, rat and mouse poop...poop from animals I can't even begin to name or imagine...no one creeps around to the back by any means other than going through the house and out the sliding glass door to the deck. But Jean, seeing no other way if she is to save her father from whatever peril has befallen him, decides to creep through the forest that leads into the grave yard where Christmas trees have been discarded into the past, the tensil still hanging from their dead limbs like rain drops, all the way to the back of the house to find a ladder or something that will help her perhaps crawl into an open window. Well, she makes it through to the back, and onto the deck, and notices the bathroom window is slightly ajar, however becomes overwhelmed by the challenge of squeezing her butt through the tiny opening and gives up. Just as she steps out of the bush into the clearing, dad is pulling up in his dodge.

Not immediately recognizing the apparition that steps from around the side of his house, and of course jumping to the immediate conclusion it's someone trying to rob him, he yells, "Who's there?"

"It's me dad," she says, wiping something very similar to bird poop from her face, and hair that's also matted with thistle from low hanging branches. She must of looked like Alice after falling through the rabbit hole. Was her name Alice? Anyway, Dad's looking at her like she's a brutha from the hood and he's about two seconds from pushing 911 on his touch dial. "What are you doing?"

She blabbed about being scared silly 'cause she thought he couldn't answer the door or phone because something had happened to him. I think she mentioned something about the fact he shouldn't be driving, which set him off. He blabbed about how some people should mind their own business and how ridiculous it is that he can't even go to the store if he wants to. By the time I called and Jean picked up, I can hear dad in the background grinding her feelings into the floor with his words. Been there, done that. I gave her one word of advice, leave.

This incident happened only a few hours before my verbal exchange with dad. And here's my disclaimer, I was not at the residence at the time of the incident in question. This is purely a fictional account of a real life event.

Oh..and by the way, I know I said I wasn't coming back ever but I did. Care giving gets difficult sometimes. It is not for sissies.

The end.

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