Funny Happenings

1) Glimpse into my future:

My son is eleven months old. I can’t wait to communicate with him with more than gestures and exaggerated facial expressions. He makes lots of sounds including ‘mamama’, but he’s as likely to say it to the cat as me. ‘Bababa’ could mean bottle, but he’s also said it to my sneaker, so I think not. As I eagerly await the day he says his first word, with both meaning and intent, the universe reminds me there are pros and cons to every stage in life.

I was out walking the little guy and happened to pass a house getting a new roof. One of the construction workers was standing at the end of the driveway with a phone to his ear.

“Is mommy there?…let me talk to mommy…ok, buddy, give the phone to mommy.”

As I got closer I could hear the other end of the conversation.

“Yayayaya…ya…dada, ya!”

“Can you give the phone to mommy?”

“Pho, ya!”

“I need to talk to mommy, give the phone to mommy.”

“Yaya!”

At this point he sees my approach. And my smile. “Good luck with that,” I said.

He pulled the phone away from his ear with a smile expressing something between amusement and exasperation. “He’s two, just discovering his words…and the phone.”

Phone back to his ear, “I’ll call back later, ok?”

“Da, ya!

“Say bye bye…ok, love you, bye bye.”

Perhaps I should just enjoy where we are. Greater complexity (and fun) will come in due time.

2) The case of the two fridges:

We are moving. The date of the move came sooner than expected. This meant cleaning out the fridge and throwing away a lot of food. A shame, but part of the process. As it turns out, the fridge of a moving family goes through a few stages.

There’s the ‘don’t throw that away we might still eat it’ stage. This is where mysterious leftovers, some rarely-used condiments, and anything with freezer burn are removed.

Then we have the ‘all contents on the counter while I clean the inside for the first time in…a long time’ stage. Self explanatory. A few more not-likely-to-be-eaten items get thrown out here.

Eventually reality sets in and we have what I call the bachelor stage. Just under a week ago, I opened our fridge and found the following items:

Ham,

Cheese,

Bread,

Pickles,

Mayo,

Milk, and,

Beer.

By that night (the night before the big pack) only milk and beer remained. I call this the beer bare-necessities stage.

Another part of the moving process, at least for us, is a week in hotels while we wait for the moving truck to show up with our stuff. Our new home is an hour and half from the old one, but our stuff will be in the moving company’s hands for six days—assuming all goes according to (the current) plan. The delay is because the truck actually got here before us, and that caused all of our belongings to enter an interdimensional space for a while. That’s a military move for you.

Anyhoo.

We checked into our hotel in city number one (our city of origin, if you will). Something smelled funky in the vicinity of the mini-fridge. I looked. The previous occupants had left something very garlicy in there (my guess, about a week ago).

I threw the food out and called housekeeping to come clean the fridge. They wiped it with a damp rag and left. I cleaned it with white-citrus shampoo. The smell of rotting-garlic something-or-other lingered.

3) Internet from the ether:

Hotel number two (in city of destination). Smells great. Clean fridge. The pool includes a hot tub. Life is good.

Second night (tonight): power outage. We’re on the fifth floor with a non-functioning elevator—at least we weren’t in the elevator.

The internet is still working. Hmmm, I wish my home internet worked like that.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s