The Spring before Gabriel turned 3 we bought our first house. It was love at first site, my now husband and I met in the middle of the house, each of us only having seen half and said "this one". Our Realtor brought us our keys and champagne a few seemingly long weeks later.
It was extremely important to me that Gabriel grew up in a house we owned, a house that was our home. Of course, with buying a house comes extra expenses. We had to adjust: a larger monthly payment, water/sewer, the water heater breaking turning our T shaped hallway into a swimming pool.
Money was tight, our expenses had increased, but our salaries had stayed the same. Christmas was around the corner. Pre-school wasn't far away.
I saw it on TV...the advertisement/informational show regarding the research around it got me hook, line, and sinker. I watched the entire 30 minute special. It was a blue and green Little Tikes kitchen. Finally, one that wasn't pink. I found it on-line. It was $150. Plus tax. Plus shipping.
I had not spent that much on one item for Gabriel yet. I debated this in my head. What else would be under the tree if I bought this? What if he never played with it? I wanted that kitchen. He was always playing in the real kitchen. We could put it in the real kitchen, we all spend a lot of time in there. It was perfect. I could pick it up at Little Tikes, I worked near the HQ.
My now husband, being versed in these things, stayed up and put the kitchen together the night before. I did my share...I put the stickers on and put the empty box in the garage.
A sleepy 3 year old Gabriel, woke on Christmas morning and sat on the couch staring at his gifts. Then he saw it. He walked right over to it and started cooking. He loved it! We had to remind him he had other gifts to open...a ton of them at that. Spoiled like his mom, my mom would say.
Fast forward, 5 years. The kitchen, now Gabriel's restaurant, Dirty Mondays, is still in our kitchen. The microwave is covered with stickers. There is a praying lamb by the phone, just in case Gabriel will say if you inquire.
Just yesterday, I ate at Dirty Mondays. They have excellent service and you get a birthday hat, even if it's not your birthday. My bacon was crispy and the eggs were amazing. The menu varies, but you can often get a large meal for only $5. Sometimes dessert is pricey. Sometimes they run out of chicken. Service is always with a smile, especially when you tickle the chef/waiter.
Every now and then the restaurant closes. No reason is ever given. That's when pizza girl comes in handy. Gabriel laughs at pizza girl. Pizza girl is a hick sounding, gum chewing mommy who doesn't pronounce any of her words correctly. "No one wants shoe topping, mom!" Gabriel will laugh. "Who's this ma you keep talkin' about?" I will reply. "I am pizza girl, now you wanna make an order, ya know I have under my nails to clean." "Health code, health code", Gabriel will scream! "Dirty Mondays is open"!
It's still the best $150 plus tax I ever spent.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Saying Goodbye
Before I left for a work trip I went to see my grandpa. My mom said I may not have another chance, and as it happened, mom's are normally right. Go ahead, read that again, I may not have it in print too often.
As I drove to the exit I have gotten off so many times during my life, I had to take a deep breath. How do you say good bye? Does he know it's good bye? Does he realize why so many people are coming to see him all at once? I thought of a million things to say, none of them seemed right. Final conversations are only ever good in movies and books, after multiple re-writes and edits.
How do you say good bye when it really is good bye? I am the oldest of 26 grandchildren. I was the fixer growing up and now probably the one that sounds so old to at least 10 cousins. I can't fix this. You can't fix lung cancer. When I explained things to my son, he said well don't they have a shot for that?
I walked into the house I had walked into so many times, as a child, sometimes multiple times a day. We used to ride our bikes here. I think I played in that front yard more than my own. The first time I looked at the pictures around the funeral home, I noticed a lot of joy and a lot of kids. My very large family could make some rabbit colonies look small. How many kids have been in and out of that house?
No pink jelly shoes today. Grandpa would be in the hospital bed in his room. There were pictures from an aunt's wedding at the funeral home. I was around 8. I was dancing with my grandpa. No dancing today. I stood by the bed. I was afraid I'd pull one of the tubes. I tried not to move. Grandpa looked so small, so weak. At 33 years old, I wanted my mommy to tell me what to do.
There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to sit on the bed, but I was too afraid the movement would hurt him. We talked, he seemed tired. I thought I should let him rest. He asked about work, about my trip. He talked about my son and when he had come to visit. He offered some advice. I said yes. He knew there was more, but he didn't push it. He's known me a long time... fixers don't like to be fixed.
When I left, two little girls knocked on the door, they wanted their gumballs and grandma delivered. That would have been grandpa's job not too long ago. No, these are chocolate covered ants. Your grandma really likes them. Here eat one. Grandpa, that's gross. Oh, you don't think you can eat it because your teeth don't come out? I can eat it, Grandpa, I will. Give it to me.
So many people came. I guess when you have 11 kids and live in the same house for decades, you know a few people. As I walk around and look at the pictures, I see Grandpa had a good life. Dramatic at times, sorrowful at others, but also joyous, happy, and loving.
There is only one time I remember Grandpa ever being angry with me. I was not only the spoiled oldest, but I was the daughter of his oldest child. That's good for as many chocolate covered grapes and red shell pistachios you can eat in your pink jelly shoes.
As I drove to the exit I have gotten off so many times during my life, I had to take a deep breath. How do you say good bye? Does he know it's good bye? Does he realize why so many people are coming to see him all at once? I thought of a million things to say, none of them seemed right. Final conversations are only ever good in movies and books, after multiple re-writes and edits.
How do you say good bye when it really is good bye? I am the oldest of 26 grandchildren. I was the fixer growing up and now probably the one that sounds so old to at least 10 cousins. I can't fix this. You can't fix lung cancer. When I explained things to my son, he said well don't they have a shot for that?
I walked into the house I had walked into so many times, as a child, sometimes multiple times a day. We used to ride our bikes here. I think I played in that front yard more than my own. The first time I looked at the pictures around the funeral home, I noticed a lot of joy and a lot of kids. My very large family could make some rabbit colonies look small. How many kids have been in and out of that house?
No pink jelly shoes today. Grandpa would be in the hospital bed in his room. There were pictures from an aunt's wedding at the funeral home. I was around 8. I was dancing with my grandpa. No dancing today. I stood by the bed. I was afraid I'd pull one of the tubes. I tried not to move. Grandpa looked so small, so weak. At 33 years old, I wanted my mommy to tell me what to do.
There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to sit on the bed, but I was too afraid the movement would hurt him. We talked, he seemed tired. I thought I should let him rest. He asked about work, about my trip. He talked about my son and when he had come to visit. He offered some advice. I said yes. He knew there was more, but he didn't push it. He's known me a long time... fixers don't like to be fixed.
When I left, two little girls knocked on the door, they wanted their gumballs and grandma delivered. That would have been grandpa's job not too long ago. No, these are chocolate covered ants. Your grandma really likes them. Here eat one. Grandpa, that's gross. Oh, you don't think you can eat it because your teeth don't come out? I can eat it, Grandpa, I will. Give it to me.
So many people came. I guess when you have 11 kids and live in the same house for decades, you know a few people. As I walk around and look at the pictures, I see Grandpa had a good life. Dramatic at times, sorrowful at others, but also joyous, happy, and loving.
There is only one time I remember Grandpa ever being angry with me. I was not only the spoiled oldest, but I was the daughter of his oldest child. That's good for as many chocolate covered grapes and red shell pistachios you can eat in your pink jelly shoes.
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