“Ok, one picture. ONE, I said. No! One!”
Kitty (aka El Diablo’s Sister) warned me but I didn’t listen. Bandaids now needed.
While most people were out celebrating at parties with friends and/or family, I was home with my Dad getting shit-faced drunk! Yep. You read that right.
We were in a bit of a predicament over the weekend. We were running very low on propane and that is our primary source of heat. The weather was bitingly cold and we were having to conserve as much propane as possible while waiting for the propane delivery guy. It’s the busy season and they are hauling ass trying to get to everyone — but as I write this, our propane has still not been delivered!
The temperature ranged from a high of 25 degrees down to a low of -10! I can’t recall ever having -10 degree temps in the 25 years I have lived here! It was a LONG weekend. We were bundled up, wearing the thickest, most winterized clothing we could find. We used the propane heat to warm up the house first thing in the mornings and then later in the evenings. In between, we used electric heaters which didn’t really cut the mustard. We were cold but we weren’t freezing.
Anyway, on a biting 9 degree New Year’s Eve, Dad and I decided to ring in the new year with a bottle of champagne and strawberry daiquiris! The alcohol lifted our spirits, warmed our innards, and made for some good story-telling and laughter!
Dad and I went out this morning. We did a little shopping and had lunch at one of our favorite places. The air was cold but the wind was biting.
We stopped at a Dollar Tree, not because we’re cheap, but because they have some good stuff in there for just $1! I mean, why pay $3 or $4 for a damn greeting card when the Dollar Tree has a large assortment for just $1? Oh and some of them are 2 for $1. So there. Anyway, we had to park what seemed like a mile away and that’s always rough on me since I walk with a cane – and slowly. So, Dad gets to the door first and he’s waiting for me so he can open the door. He’s a gentleman still, even at age 80. So he’s standing there waiting for me and this woman comes barreling out of the store, pushing the door open like she was going to push someone off a cliff! I mean WHAM! She nearly hit Dad in the face with the door and she’s damn lucky she didn’t. He managed to jump back just in time. There could have been a small child there, or someone disabled like me standing in the line of fire. She could have seriously injured someone! She never even looked to see if someone was coming in nor did she even realize what she did – no apologies, no nothing. Ugh.
We stopped at the restaurant next. The food was good, as always. Service was a little slow but they were pretty busy, no big deal. When we left, I started feeling a rumbling in my stomach. I didn’t think much of it as I had a surgery some time ago for a herniated stomach, which means that I am not able to belch efficiently. So I get gassy quicker and more often than most people. On top of that, I eat way too fast (because I hate cold food) and swallow too much air, making me even gassier. Ha! I know, TMI. Anyway, nothing out of the ordinary really. The drive to get home is about 50 minutes. We weren’t 10 minutes out of town and I realized…. Uh oh. I may have a problem.
The gas is building so I asked Dad to fish out my gas relief tablets from my purse. He did and I took 3 with hopes that it would settle things a bit.
Nope. No such luck. The drive was the most uncomfortable drive! My stomach was cramping up and I hoped that what I thought would happen, wouldn’t.
A few minutes later, still no relief. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me. The drive seemed to go from 50 minutes long to 150 minutes! I didn’t think we’d ever get home. Would I make it? I sure hoped so.
10 miles to go. My stomach is still cramping and I’m afraid I’m not going to make it!
6 more miles to go. Not gonna make it, I thought.
4 miles more….. OMG! Not gonna make it!
We turned onto our road and it started to happen.
OMG! I told Dad to hurry and get the front door unlocked because I had to make a mad dash for the toilet…..but remember I’m walking with a cane, and very slowly so the mad dash was more of a turtle’s walk.
Hence the title of this post.
I woke up a bit on the groggy side this morning. I actually slept until 9 am. That doesn’t happen often. It was difficult to stand and walk, but no different than most days. As per the norm, I headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and take my morning meds.
I went about my morning business. Cleaning up after furbabies when you can barely walk is not fun and no easy task. When that was finished I walked to the front door and looked out. There were 5 little squirrels scampering in the yard! I stood there watching for a few minutes before I realized I had a big smile on my face. I was grateful to start my morning with this comical view! I wished I had my phone to record these silly squirrels but I left it in my room. Too much trouble to walk back and get it. I stood there and enjoyed the show for a few more minutes before I decided to go get my cup of much-needed coffee.
I guess I was groggier than I thought. I grabbed a mug and poured my coffee. The cup seemed a bit weird feeling in my hand. I didn’t think much of it in that moment. I added my sweetener and creamer. When I stuck the spoon in to stir, it felt odd. The spoon seemed longer than it usually is. I checked the spoon. Same small spoon as always. Hmmmm…. Took a sip of coffee. The cup felt strange on my lips. “What the heck is going on?” I wondered.
When I sat the cup down, I started to focus on the reality of the moment. It dawned on me I had the WRONG mug! I had grabbed a smaller, 11 oz. mug instead of my normal 15 oz. mug! Transferred coffee from small mug to bigger mug. Now the spoon fit as normal and everything was right with the world once again!
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