And mine has already started. I took today off since I got my work for the week done last night, and took CJ for his checkup. Completely happy and healthy. We had taken him off of dairy as an experiment, per the doctor, for the past month, and he has clearance to start again.
Mommy's making some macaroni and cheese tonight!
On the way back, we ran into clogged traffic on the I-10--people headed west getting early starts on the weekend. So I got off a couple exits early and we stopped at Chik-Fil-A for lunch. They have these new milkshakes that are just as good as the milkshakes at Steak and Shake. Those are gonna get me in trouble.
I had never had a Steak and Shake shake until my last visit to the folks this past May. After a shopping trip to Wal-Mart, I suggested it to Mom and Dad since they don't have that restaurant out here. I had to order a kid's meal for Dad (his appetite isn't what it used to be), and got him a small shake while Mom and I got burgers and big shakes, with whipped cream and a cherry on top. With Dad's diabetes, he really shouldn't have these things often, but with his limited time left with us, like we're gonna deny him a simple shake.
The day after we went, I stopped at the house after going to church with Tooz and the clan. Dad's watching TV, and Mom had gone in for a nap. Dad was playing with his new lift chair; he presses one button, and the chair slowly reclines back and lets him kick his legs up. Press another button, and the chair goes from reclined to a raised position, letting him get out more easily. Dad spends a good chunk of his day "riding" the chair--so much so that Mom has nicknamed him the Urban Cowboy.
Dad and I were watching TV while he was riding his chair, and he looks over at me and says, "I sure wish I had a shake like the one I had last night."
I chuckle and ask him, "Is that a hint or a request?"
He responds by pressing the up button on the chair's remote, which starts raising him up. "You wanna go to Steak and Shake?" I ask, and he nods, still rising.
I go into the bedroom to tell Mom, but she's sound asleep and I can't wake her, so I decide to leave a note. When I go back in the living room, Dad's gone. His chair is empty, his cane is missing, and the front door is open. I look through the screen door, and there's Dad, sitting in my rental car, fishing for the seatbelt.
Laughing, I scrawl a note to Mom, grab my purse and keys, and head out the door. Dad still has his slippers on, he's in such a hurry for a milkshake.
We get there, and I ask him if he wants a vanilla shake--he shakes his head no. I ask if he wants chocolate, and he declines again. Then I remember he loves strawberry ice cream, but he says, "I don't want anything." He's staring at the dashboard of the car, looking somewhat far away.
"Dad, are you sure? We came here because you asked for a shake like last night."
He furrows his eyebrows, searching, then snorts. "Oh, yeah. Vanilla."
We get our shakes after a wait in drive thru. Dad curses a few times, wondering why it's taking so long since he only wants a damn shake. Once he gets his shake and straw, it's silence on the ride home. He's too busy sucking it down to speak. As he gets out of the car, he gives me his best mischievous grin and I realize, I've been snookered.
Snookered good.
Ah, well. I didn't have my son to spoil that weekend; might as well take the time to spoil my father.
iTroll
1 day ago
4 comments:
Watch me get all gushy. You are going to cherish that memory for a long, long time.
My daddy used to love soup beans and corn bread. His favorite treat after he moved to Dover Manor, was to go to Cracker Barrel for soup beans. One day he had finished his beans and was sitting there with the rest of us, waiting while the kids picked at what they had left. The waitress came to see if we wanted anything else--like dessert. Daddy said, I believe I'll have some more beans!
When we took him back to the nursing home, Mama said, If he dies right now, he'll die happy--he's full of beans.
I was more than glad to take him out. I don't think he gets out enough, but I know it must be tough for Mom sometimes. I have a toddler; I can relate!
There was a part of me that found it very interesting, in that I can remember Dad would take Jamie and I out for ice cream cones at McDonald's for no reason. Or we would go to Lexington on a Sunday drive and hit White Castle (which I *love* and they don't have here). So I was glad to return the favor.
Between that, and the Wal-Mart story, Dad was in rare form!
I, too, was feelin a little gushy (and mushy...), and I'm glad you got that story in print. Anywho, i like shakes, too. Feelin a little guilty for taking white castle for granted. Haven't even been yet since we moved to TN, though we have one here and didn't in G-town or Richmond. Next time we go to a restaurant, I'll suggest it be white castle, in your honor. I really like it, too. I have fond memories of huge bucketloads of red pop paired with unidentifiable meat rings and salty greasy onion burger bits, and good company at odd hours. That's how I first met one of my best friend's husbands. When she started dating him years later, I totally approved, cause he had talked to the table of dorky crazy girls at White Castle. I knew he was a catch and a half. (Plus he looks like a manlier version of a ken doll and loves my friend more than anybody else ever could, and she's loveable!)
Okey-dokey, that's it. You made me turn all gooey! Just don't step in me. I'm really hard to remove from the tread of your tennies!
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