Monday, February 22, 2010

If You Live Long Enough... might find some satisfaction in your circumstances.

You might hear one or more of your children say the Oh! So! Amazing! phrase:
“You know, Mom…you were absolutely right about ________.”

Even better:
“I should have listened to my Mother when she said I should __________.”

I have tried to hide my smiles when my grown-up daughter fusses about something her pre-adolescent child does that is driving her crazy. Wonder where I’ve heard those complaints before??

I always knew that what goes around would come around where children are concerned. I’ve watched my Mother laugh at me with my children and simply shake her head about stuff and nonsense.

What I was NOT prepared for was something that happened today.

I’m having IV Steroid Infusions this week for a condition that I am naming Molli’s Rare and Goofy Disease. If I told you the real name of it, you’d think I made it up. Besides, it bores me to tears at this point and I am quite over it. I’d like to make a Royal Decree in MolliWorld that we have a very nice dinner, exchange gifts and never speak of this again. (I know how far that would get me. I may be the Queen, but I know my place in the food chain).

Anyway, my precious parents are here this week. They visit me every year about this time, and were scheduled to arrive later this week but came late last week because of some weather concerns.

They accompanied me to the hospital this morning to get my first treatment. We are talking a mega-dose of steroids given via IV for 5 days. The lovely nurse, Mary, was putting the IV in and having a bit of a hard time. I noticed that My Sweet Daddy left the room. When she said, “I think this vein blew…yep, it’s blown!” My Dear Mother left the room.

I looked at Mary and said, “They could beat me half to death when I was a little kid but can’t seem to watch me get stuck now that I’m almost 53!! What’s up with that?”

Mary laughed. Of course, they didn’t REALLY beat me half to death, although I did get my share of whippings. Daddy would say, “I’m going to beat the tar out of you!” but I don’t think he ever really did. And what does that mean, anyway? I'm going to beat the tar out of you? What the heck is the 'tar?' How does it get beaten out of you? What if I someday need my tar and its all gone? These are the questions I pondered as a small child in the closet where I loved to sit and think about things.

Rocket Man showed up after the IV was in place and then Mother and Daddy came back in. I saw my chance to say what I’d wanted to say all those years ago and I figured I could get by with it today.

I smiled, batted my eyes, tried to look pitiful and said what I'd longed to say all those years ago, but had sense enough not to say. I said;
“That hurt me a lot worse than it hurt you!”

If you live long enough…..


Teri Lynne Underwood said...

Literally I snorted and laughed out loud!! I love it!!

Country Gal said...

Love it! Honey you can tell a story!

Annie said...

I can clearly remember (shoking, I know) being 15 and someone telling me that I was going to turn into my mother someday. In fact, they might have said that I was already like my mother. I fussed and said no way, but deep down in the depths of my heart, I said thank goodness. And today whenever I hear those words, you're just like your mother, I say thank you.

Mollianne said...

Teri Lynne, this is going to be such fodder for blogs. Tonight has been hilarious at my house, and Ed lost the upper hand quite early. I'm feelng soooooo smoooooth right now. I'm cracking myself up! All by myself!

Mollianne said...

Country Gal, thanks, dear. I looked at your profile and woul love to get to know you better.

Mollianne said...

Precious Annie...never was there a daughter dearer than you. I am so humbled by your love and the precious things you say to me. What a journey you and I have trod! Today, I am thankful for that broken road...because I can't imagine being prouder of you. Ed is proud of you, too! I love you, baby of mine!