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My Profile
Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
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8:39 a.m. - 2010-08-11
There's 4.5 gazillion things I should be doing. Worthy things involving the cleanliness of my home and the solvency of my bank account, there's even a few personal grooming matters I could attend to. So what am I doing? Screwing around on the internet and talking to you good people. Saturday night we tootled off to another county fair. A smaller, tidier and much more bucolic fair than our own. Also due to where it's held it's the only fair I've been to where the scent of nag champa gently overtook the smell of hot grease and popcorn. I bought a broadly grinning Buddha made of rosewood from the carver himself, and got the witchy high sign from another vendor whose lovely patchwork batik skirts were long enough but unfortunately not wide enough at the waist for my barrel bod. On a whim I asked MIL to come with us. I've been trying to get her out and about as much as possible before FIL's dementia starts holding her completely captive. It's still possible to leave FIL on his own for a few hours and I thought MIL might enjoy the novelty of an evening jaunt to a fair. She was thrilled to be asked and I made a mental note to include her in even more frequently. Maybe it's odd and a bit dorky to want to hang out with my MIL so much, but I truly like her. In many ways her life has mirrored my own and we 'get' each other in lots of ways that don't need to be talked about. She's mad about Wolf too and considers him just as much of a grandson as her real one (SIL's only spawn) so it's a win-win-win all around. And here's an example of how cool my MIL is- despite a nearly crippling fear of heights she agreed to go on the ferris wheel. The little gondolas held four comfortably so she gamely got on with us. I kept my arm around her the whole time and encouraged her to look out, not down. She was very pleased with herself afterward and was tickled to discover that at 72 she wasn't too old to try new things. MIL won't be signing up for skydiving school anytime soon (to be honest, neither will I) but her courage and good humor are inspiring. He'll kill me for this, but I have to tell you about the funny thing Wolf did yesterday. I'd given him a haircut and he showered afterward then futzed around in the bathroom for a while. Finally all spiffy and dressed again he presented himself to me to show off his noggin. I saw he had these odd little black marks on his eyelids. I looked closer and asked, "Wolf, are you wearing mascara?" He quibbled and bluffed for a bit before admitting he'd used that 'pink eyelash comb' in the bathroom. Confused I asked him to bring me the 'eyelash comb'. Sure enough, it was a tube of Great Lash. "Mom! My eyelashes were all tangled!" "Sweetie, that's not a comb, it's make-up. Mascara." "Oh crap! I put make-up on? I was just trying to untangle my eyelashes!" I cracked up. Wolf clutched his head and called himself a few choice names relating to his doofiness. When I stopped laughing I calmed him and assured him it was an honest mistake. I agreed that he had very long eyelashes (he does) and that I probably had an old mascara wand I could clean up and give him to use to groom his wayward lashes. Unless, of course, he was adamant about wearing mascara and if so we needed to talk. Now. My boy hastily assured me that wearing make-up was not on his agenda, he just wanted to blink and not have his eyelashes velcro his eyelids shut. He's his mama's son alright.
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