Vignettes of the Week
This has been an interesting week, with a lot of Seinfeldishly small events combining to make my cup bubble over.
(1) My grandaughter Kyly, age 5 (almost 6, she states proudly), presented me with a home-made Valentine. " Kyly", I said, "We have another important holiday to celebrate. My birthday is the day before Valentine's Day. I'll give you a special prize if you can tell me how old I'll be." She thought for a minute, her face scrunched up in concentration. Finally she asked, "Papa, how old are you NOW ?" She then brilliantly added one to the unfortunately astronomically high answer and claimed her prize. Einstein must have started like this.
(2) Preparatory to my upcoming operation, I've been asked to give two pints of my blood in case a transfusion is needed. I received an official form instructing me to start taking iron pills a week before they suck out my blood. This form further advised me to take Metamusil to offset the effects of the iron pills. Now, I'm willing to endure the pain of knee surgery, the phobia of watching a blood-thirsty phlebotomist gleefully depleting my vital fluids, the excruciating pain of rehab, but I'm damned if I'm going to admit to being old enough for Metamusil. So I went and bought out the stock of prune juice at Stop 'n Shop instead. F--k 'em, anyway.
(3) Remember the Yankee fan who wanted to show me her NYY tattoos? If you recall I turned down the offer. Well, today Mike the bartender (a witness to the conversation) weighed in with his opinion that I'd risen considerably in his esteem by my refusal to view the sullied flesh. His quote, "No one else has had the guts to tell that woman to keep her shirt in her pants." Either he admired my rudeness or he's a Red Sox fan.
(4) I've had a casual, COMPLETELY INNOCENT relationship with a young faculty wife. This has consisted of meeting in the late afternoon before class for coffee or a quick bite (of FOOD, you idiots). Yesterday I received an E-mail saying that we couldn't meet because her husband was jealous. I've dealt with jealous husbands before (running as fast as I can is the best course of action, I've found), but never from a position of absolute innocence. Maybe I should be flattered, the guy's at least two decades younger than I am. Or outraged ("how could you THINK that I ....."). And how come I'm always in trouble for NO REASON ?
As I said, it's been an interesting week of non-events.
I'm not sure that I want something significant to happen, I can't seem to find the time.
Later.
This has been an interesting week, with a lot of Seinfeldishly small events combining to make my cup bubble over.
(1) My grandaughter Kyly, age 5 (almost 6, she states proudly), presented me with a home-made Valentine. " Kyly", I said, "We have another important holiday to celebrate. My birthday is the day before Valentine's Day. I'll give you a special prize if you can tell me how old I'll be." She thought for a minute, her face scrunched up in concentration. Finally she asked, "Papa, how old are you NOW ?" She then brilliantly added one to the unfortunately astronomically high answer and claimed her prize. Einstein must have started like this.
(2) Preparatory to my upcoming operation, I've been asked to give two pints of my blood in case a transfusion is needed. I received an official form instructing me to start taking iron pills a week before they suck out my blood. This form further advised me to take Metamusil to offset the effects of the iron pills. Now, I'm willing to endure the pain of knee surgery, the phobia of watching a blood-thirsty phlebotomist gleefully depleting my vital fluids, the excruciating pain of rehab, but I'm damned if I'm going to admit to being old enough for Metamusil. So I went and bought out the stock of prune juice at Stop 'n Shop instead. F--k 'em, anyway.
(3) Remember the Yankee fan who wanted to show me her NYY tattoos? If you recall I turned down the offer. Well, today Mike the bartender (a witness to the conversation) weighed in with his opinion that I'd risen considerably in his esteem by my refusal to view the sullied flesh. His quote, "No one else has had the guts to tell that woman to keep her shirt in her pants." Either he admired my rudeness or he's a Red Sox fan.
(4) I've had a casual, COMPLETELY INNOCENT relationship with a young faculty wife. This has consisted of meeting in the late afternoon before class for coffee or a quick bite (of FOOD, you idiots). Yesterday I received an E-mail saying that we couldn't meet because her husband was jealous. I've dealt with jealous husbands before (running as fast as I can is the best course of action, I've found), but never from a position of absolute innocence. Maybe I should be flattered, the guy's at least two decades younger than I am. Or outraged ("how could you THINK that I ....."). And how come I'm always in trouble for NO REASON ?
As I said, it's been an interesting week of non-events.
I'm not sure that I want something significant to happen, I can't seem to find the time.
Later.
posted by Papa Bill | 2:14 PM
5 Comments:
Your granddaughter sounds brilliant!
Question: Does your wife ever get a teeny bit jealous of your innocent philandering?
My wife, being perfect in all ways, would never stoop to such a base emotion.
Points for you, Papa Bill -- especially if Mama Blither reads your blog!
Maybe there's a valentine there for Mama Blither.
Cut out a pink construction paper heart and simply write inside:
"You, my wife, are perfect in all ways. I am jealous of all that you are. And grateful."
:)
Perhaps the jealous hubby reads your blog! That said, it's pretty juvenile to be threatened by a friendship.
Why didn't you tell me that you had the same birthday as my son who I recently posted about? Hope it was good (no black eyes from jealous husbands and what not).
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