I'm That Grandmother!

I would like for it to go on record that I have shown tremendous restraint since I found out that Matt & Kyla were having a baby. I didn't buy anything until I found out if we were having a boy or a girl. Well, except for the Willow Tree figurine for Kyla. You know, the one where she is pregnant, but that was also to add to her collection. And that was all.

oh, and a clock for the nursery. And we gave Matt a Jeep brand baby pouch/carrier for Father's Day...okay, so I bought a few things, but just trust me when I say, I didn't get everything I thought about getting.

But I especially held off buying any generic clothes. I did find a cute little white onesie at Target that said something fun on the front in black print, but that was to frame, not to wear, so that didn't count.

Fast fwd to the day Matt called and asked what I was doing, and in fact I was at Sport's Authority getting Drew a no-sweat golf shirt. He said, "Well, while you're there, you might pick up a baseball mitt for your grandson!" A boy! Mark! Perfect! Some of my favorite people started out as baby boys!

Matt's birthday was in September, so we gave him Father/Son Tampa Bay Rays baseball t-shirts. Mark's was on sale for $3 at Marshall's. I don't think that qualifies as buying baby clothes, do you?

Last week, I was in Macy's to return some dishes. On the way to the down escalator, I walked by the baby department. They were having a sale, so I browsed the racks. "Cute, cute, cute, too girly, cute, white?!, oh! how cute, probably will get a lot of those at the shower, cute, cute."

I started to leave with my great restraint when a little old(er) grandmother tapped me on the arm and said, "Which one of these should I buy?" And there she was, holding cute, cute, and the perfect outfit for Mark! I hadn't seen that one. I quickly scanned the rack again to see if I had missed it, and it was obvious that she had the only one left.

You can imagine my moral dilemma.

"Well," I began nervously, "they're all cute. When is the baby due?"

"October." she said.

"These two would probably be more practical for winter weather," I said as I steered her away from Mark's perfect outfit.

"We don't get much winter here," she said. "This one's cute, too," she had the nerve to say while she was holding Mark's perfect outfit.

"Yes," I said as indifferently as possible. "But you know young parents these days. Go, go go! They'll probably be going north for the winter and won't you be the hero for giving them one of these other two adorable rompers!"

"Put it back! OH, PULEEZE PUT MARK'S PERFECT OUTFIT BACK ON THE THE RACK!", I screamed silently. I found myself reaching to take it out of her little old wrinkled hand.

"I guess I'll get this one," she said, referring to one of the other cute ones.

"Good choice!" I said. She turned and walked over to get her daughter's approval. When she did, I snatched Mark's perfect outfit off of the rack and ran as fast as I could to the nearest checkout, only to encounter the slowest checkout girl on the planet. Yeah, yeah, brand new terminals, whatever, just hurry up! NO! I don't want to donate any money to any diseases! I must have said that last part out loud, because she looked at me like I was evil, so I said okay.

I felt just a little bit guilty about the whole incident, so I called Matt to confess. "Am I going to be that grandmother?" I asked?

Matt was still laughing, "Man, I sure hope so!"

p.s. Since I bought Mark's perfect outfit using part of the credit I had from returning the dishes, it's not really even like I used money to buy it. So technically, I still haven't bought him any clothes. Pretty good restraint, don't you think?!

TARGETed

We had only been here a week when I found a better Target. The one near us was under renovation and it messed up my shopping aura. I had ordered some dark brown leather furniture, and wanted to look for some pillows to brighten it up. (as if I needed an excuse to go to Target)

With my one little pillow in the basket, I browsed the rest of the store. Somewhere between the toy and electronics departments, I was accosted by two boys asking for money.

"Can I have a dollar?"

"Excuse me?" There went my shopping aura.

The Accomplice explained, "He needs a dollar."

As a matter of fact, I had just returned something and had a wad of dollars, but I was longing for conversation, so I asked, "Why do you need a dollar?"

"Because I wanna buy this toy and I need another dollar."

"Where's your mother?"

"She dropped us off. But my uncle gave me $20 for my birthday..."

The Accomplice, "Show her the money! He's got a 20 dollar bill!"

"...and I found this cool car for $19.99..."

The Accomplice, "I'll go get the car!"

"...except when I went to pay for it the total was $21.34 with tax. The guy in electronics said he would forget about the 34 cents if I could find another dollar."

I looked at those 2 faces. I looked at the guy in electronics. I looked at the cool lime green remote control car. I looked into my soul and thought, 'What would Jesus do'? That didn't work so well, since Jesus wouldn't be in Target buying decorative pillows.

I wanted to help the boys. They could do worse things with $20 than to buy something that would keep them busy for a few hot summer days, but I also didn't want to encourage them to hit up old ladies for money so I thought, 'What would Larry James do'?

Larry would let them earn the money.

I said, "I won't give you a dollar, but I'll give you an opportunity to earn a dollar if you're willing to work for it." They jumped and smiled and vowed they would do whatever I asked.

"Well...(I looked in my basket),I'm about to buy something really heavy, and I'll probably need 2 strong boys to help me get it in my shopping cart."

They high-fived each other and flexed their muscles. Now if I could just think of something really heavy to buy. I turned to go to the garden department. The item we found was on the top shelf. The Accomplice offered to get Mr. Electronics to get it down for us. Birthday Boy waited with me.

I checked out the TOM-TOM GPS on the end cap. "I need one of these for my car."

Birthday Boy chimed in, "Yeah, so does my uncle. He dudn't know how to get anywhere in Florida. He's from TEXAS!" I let it slide.

Soon The Accomplice returned with his report. "The guy in electronics said, 'Tell your mom I'll be right there.' He thinks you're our MOM!"

"Oh, my. I'm much older than your mom."

"Nuh-UH!" said The Accomplice. "My mom's 27!"

And suddenly it occurred to me. It really wouldn't be fair to just give the birthday boy a dollar when that sweet young friend of his was being so helpful..."How old are you?" I asked.

"I'm 10." (do the math; he's a child of a child)

Birthday Boy, "My mom's WAY older than his mom and you. She's 52!"

"I'm 52." I said.

"NO WAY!" they shouted. And I for one believe they were sincerely shocked, and were not just trying to get an extra dollar out of me. "You look more like HIS mom than MY mom!"

"Well, I have used Mary Kay products since my twen..." oops, wrong story.

I asked Birthday Boy, "How old are you?"

"I'm 12." The Accomplice confirmed that it was indeed the truth. I did that math, too, and figured if I had given birth to that kid when I was 40, I would look years beyond my years, as well.

I looked at my watch and realized that I needed to leave and pick up Drew, so I said, "Okay, look. You have proven to me that if I did have something heavy, you would have helped me get it to the cart, but I've gotta go. So, here's a dollar for each of you. Happy Birthday!"

Could life get any better? They ran to the electronics department and I went to the express lane. As the clerk was ringing up my pillow, I saw The Accomplice run for the gourmet cookie counter.

"Ma'am?"

"I'm sorry. How much do I owe you?"

"The pillow was $19.99 and with tax it will be..."

"I know," I nodded as my aura returned. "$21.34".

Why Men Should Not Be Allowed to Write Advice Columns:

Thanks for sharing this, Angie. And that reminds me...I need to do laundry.

Happy birthday, Matt!

Dear Walter:

I hope you can help me here. The other day I set off for work
leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't gone more
than a few hundred yards down the road when my engine conked out and
the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.

When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was parading in front
of the wardrobe mirror dressed in my underwear and high-heel shoes, and
he was wearing my make up.

I am 32, my husband is 34 and we have been married for twelve
years. When I confronted him, he tried to make out that he had dressed in my
lingerie because he couldn't find his own underwear. But when I
asked him about the make-up, he broke down and admitted that he'd been
wearing my clothes for six months.

I told him to stop or I would leave him.

He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been
feeling depressed and worthless. I love him very much,
but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly
distant. I don't feel I can get through to him anymore.

Can you please help?


Sheila





Dear Sheila:

A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a
variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is
no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the jubilee clips
holding the vacuum pipes onto the inlet manifold. If none of these
approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself
is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the carburetor float
chamber.

I hope this helps.


Walter

Say what?

The Tower of Babel was the perfect Bible lesson for the day. I was subbing for the 3rd grade class at GCChristian Schools, which is associated with the church we're attending. We began the day with the pledge, a prayer and turning to Genesis 11:1-9. "Now the whole world had one language and a common dialect..."

"What's a dialect?" I asked. No response. "People from England speak English, but they sound like a Mary Poppins movie. They have a different dialect." I thought that was a brilliant comparison. The children politely nodded and we finished the story.

The next assignment was Language Arts. There was a list of words that they were to rhyme. The first one was 'crown'. So I asked, "Who can think of a word that rhymes with crown?" I could tell they were thinking, but decided they were just shy, so I asked Pamela.

She shook her head. "I can't think of a word that rhymes with 'crayon'.

"Oh, honey, not 'crayon',the word is 'crou-un', like a king wears on his
hey-yud."

"You mean, 'crown'!"
(aren't we saying the same thing here?)

Heads and hands popped up. "Oh! 'crown'!"
"I know!" "frown!" "town!" "down!"

It was a great object lesson for the Tower of Babel. I explained that I was from Texas and that people in Florida talked wrong.

"You're from Texas?!" Nicholas was impressed. "Have you ever been in a big tornado?"

"Yes, I have."

"Cool! What was it's name?"

(these poor hurricane babies)

"Well, I guess we have so many that there isn't time to name them all."

When we first moved here, I was curious to listen for the Florida accent. Instead, I heard people from Boston, New York, and England. Yesterday, a deliveryman noticed my Texas license plate. (still haven't changed it) "You heah from Texas? I'm from New Yoak. Been heah three yeahs. My brothah moved to Texas. He didden like it. Took a beatin on his house and moved back heah to Flahradah. Took him twenty-foah houahs in his cah."

I gave him a tip and a bottle of water.

"Good luck in your new house. Hey, thanks for the watah."

"You're welcome." I smiled and waved and shut the door.

"And good luck finding your R's!"