It is surprising how the Internet works. In my last blog I mentioned Jennifer Aniston,(I am doing so again for obvious reasons), and found out that over 100 people unwillingly read my blog looking for juicy gossip on their favorite celebrity. And few of them even signed up as my readers, so the scoop of the day is, mention someone famous in your blog and it will attract accidental traffic and even readers.
The wee ones are still suffering flu and look out of the window every morning, like prisoners of war and ask me, consistently: ” Go out”? Park? and I keep saying :” No, tomorrow, tomorrow!”
Kids have no concept of time, so it is so hard to explain things to them that are not in the present, they have no capacity for the future, or the past for that matter, well, it might just be my family’s DNA. I have very selective memory for things that happened in the past, I don’t miss anything and I shamelessly don’t regret anything. I always find it liberating to loose things and I just hope that someone finds use for the stuff that I have lost in the past. Especially when I loose something of material value.
“Tomorrow” is now the favorite word of the two year old.
:”Do you wanna cookie?” and she answers “Tomorrow!” Very advanced.
: “Shall we watch, Barney the purple perverted dinosaur?” and she answers somewhat mysteriously and puts one finger up in the air : ” Tomorrow!”
I think she is grasping the concept of delay, of something that is quite not here yet. The story of my life. I find myself consistently waiting for something that is quite not there yet!
But waking up this morning was different, it was all there, and so real, I did not have to wait! The moths were here! I have seen a couple of them flying around, but I have been ignoring them out of fear, like I feared the title of Erica Young’s, book, “Fear of Flying”, in my mother´s library. As a kid I thought this book was intended for hysterical frequent flyers who suffered sick-bag-o-phobia. I knew my mom didn’t like to fly, as she would sedate her self on Bloody Mary’s before entering aircrafts, and somewhat exit them like she had unknowingly been brought to foreign soil.
My mom also had a habit of throwing tantrums before she would clean the house, a trait that I have cherished and is of great use. It is very simple and anyone can do it. The method is to scare the entire family. To cry over spilled milk, literally, dirty laundry, whatever you can think of and manipulate your family members to help you, or else risk they will have to put you in to a mental institution.
My sudden outburst this morning, when I realized that something had to be done about the moth infested kitchen cabinets, was quite a show stopper. When the older girls were out the door, running to school like refugees, from the cries of their mad mother, husband arrived like Mad Max, shaking his head, and with out a word, pulled up his sleeves, Clorox in hand, and started cleaning the pantry.
The one year old walked around with a mob in one hand, to please mommy and the two year old kept asking: ” Are you alright, mom?” To which I replied: “No!”
She then looked at me sternly and said loudly: “Tomorrow…(and even louder) Tomorrow, mom!” And I responded: ” Yes, tomorrow!” and threw her a cloth and told her to clean her toys. Which she did!
This was a most romantic morning, husband and I, swearing loudly, attacked the kitchen cabinets and it’s inhabitants with water, soap, clorox,old toothbrushes and what not. I am not sure PETA would have agreed with our methods. We threw everything out of the cabinets, because all was infested with pantry tenants.
How can moths enter a closed bag of rice? An unopened box of Oreo’s? This is a mystery. These were no regular moths, these were Houdini moths! I even found, strangely, an unopened CD in one of the cabinets, one of my favorites that I keep buying and loosing. Academy of St. Martin in the Fields playing Mozart’s 24th, 25th, and 26th Symphony conducted by Sir Neville Marriner. A little moth rascal had made its way under the plastic! A musical moth! And CD’s are impossible to brake into!
Talking about packaging, what’s up with the way dolls are packaged? I bought the two year old a nurse doll, as she is an aspiring health care professional and keeps putting band-aid on everything she finds. The doll was like a victim of some weird BDSM serial killer. A a wire snare a round her neck, and tightly fastened on hands, waist and feet to a piece of cardboard! Quite a sickening sight!
When the kitchen looked like nobody had ever entered it, I took husband out for a ride. We went to IKEA, where I bought new flatware, new glasses(all plastic) as a big portion of this family is not stable enough to conduct themselves around stemware. Then I begged to go to the Salvation Army. Begged! My wish was granted on the condition that I would go with him to a Golf store, first.
Going to Golf stores is a sacrifice for me, because I find nothing more exhausting than watching my husband try out the different irons and listen to him explain their qualities. My husband completely ignores the fact that I have no interest in Golf. But I have found a way of dealing with that. When we started dating, some 100 years ago, I would try to look interested. I even watched golf on TV with him and pretend it was fun! Can you imagine! I never watch Golf on TV nowadays. We are married. But now I have a way of dealing with trips to the Golf store by nodding my head in agreement, when I think it’s appropriate and he seems to be happy with that.
In the golf store a huge male mannequin caught my attention, at least eight feet tall and so muscular that it was quite hilarious. The biceps were the size of my waist and it’s buttocks were like two humongous genetically altered watermelons, seedless of course. I asked a wimpish male staff member, if he didn’t feel intimidated or threatened by the size of the mannequin. I wanted to show him my support. He was quick to answer but somewhat densely: ” He’s not THAT big!” Right! If my husband had not, at this point in time already finished trying all the clubs in the store, I would have asked to speak to the supervisor. Males have image issues too. People tend to forget that!
At last we were on our way to the Salvation Army. The Salvation Army is in the middle of my city’s Skid row, a truly appropriate setting where Heaven and Hell meet. I love going there scouting for junk, and have found incredible things there. Today was my lucky day. They had three new pianos in. One was already taken as an elderly drunkard sat snoring on the keyboard, contemplating how to fit it into a shopping cart, so I didn’t dare to even look at it further.
But in the middle of the “show room” was a beautiful black upright piano, a 1902 Decker and Sons, so rugged on the outside but, oh, so beautiful! It looked like an persistent old bar singer, that just won’t stop performing. I touched the keyboard and played “Mary had a little lamb” from my extended repertoire , and it sounded wonderfully. So smooth and charming and miraculously in tune. I played every note to see if it was intact and it responded beautifully. The sustain pedal was there, but the other two were lying on top of the piano. Well, that can be fixed.
I shouted my husbands name. I love that you can shout in the Salvation Army and nobody thinks it’s strange, and shouted again, very resonantly. In the distance, I could see, that a pair of Gary Glitter boots had absorbed my husbands attention. He is a closet Glam Rocker. I shouted once more, so effectively that the old drunkard sitting by the already taken piano, moved his head down an octave.
Finally my husband came along and I forced him to try the instrument. He played, and played and played, and was surprised how wonderfully it sounded. An old teary eyed hooker walked by and applauded him. The price tag was equally wonderful. $300. We talked about how we would restore it, clean up the wood, strings etc. This was a mesmerizing moment. We were both in love. This was a passionate ménage á trois, in the making.
We are bringing it home on Friday. An endearing toothless shop assistant came to us and explained that we should not buy it until Friday because on Fridays, he whispered, everything goes half-price! Even better. 150 bucks for a Decker and Sons 1902 upright piano with an experienced look and heart of gold. No question!