My parents turned 80 this year and, as befitting such an accomplishment, my older sister organized a combined Birthday Party for them. At least I think it was just her, but it may have included up to two other sisters as well (there are 4 of us after all). I never thought to ask and now I feel slightly horrible because I had no responsibility other than showing up at the best restaurant in town at 2:00pm.
It’s slightly more than 400km (250 miles) from my house to the best restaurant in Barrhead so I had to use math, my fingers and reverse counting to make sure my arrival was early enough but not too early (Dad’s a stickler about timing). So it went kind of like this:
- I have to be there at 2:00pm so I had better be there at 1:30pm.
- It takes about 4 hours to get there so….12:30, 11:30, 10:30, 9:30……
- Give yourself an extra half hour for traffic jams, speeding tickets and assholes who drive the exact speed limit in the fast lane.…..9:00am.
- I’ll put some make-up on and since I haven’t done that in like 8 months I had better give myself a good 45 minutes in case I have to start all over at least once (and I did have to start over once)……8:15am.
- I need 20 minutes for a shower (thank Gawd I don’t need to shave my legs because that would have added another 15 minutes to my prep time)…..7:55am.
- I’ll make the coffee and it can brew while I’m in the shower…..7:45am.
I ripped through every article of clothing I own on Tuesday in an effort to find the perfect combination of nice but not too nice – it’s a Birthday Party, not a Royal Wedding. After two hours, one crying fit, one rage against the designers of womens clothing, eloquently fat-shaming myself and a serious consideration of just showing up naked….I found an outfit I considered understated yet classy. To be honest, it included Yoga Pants because 9 hours in a vehicle wearing dress pants makes me cranky. The shirt was nice though and I found an old pair of Opal earrings that were perfect.
I went to bed Tuesday night knowing I had everything under control.
And I really did have things under control. Right up to the moment I hit the highway. You see, I was driving The Viking’s truck, not my Rav 4. I couldn’t take my vehicle because The Viking found a crack in one of the tires and some scuffs on the rim.
Him: Did you hit a curb?!
Me (avoiding eye contact): No. Why?
Him: The rim is scratched, and the tire has a big crack in it!
Me: What?!
Him: Did you let someone else drive your car?
Me: No. I mean Yes.
Him (giving me the stink eye): Was it Junior?
Me: No. Yes.
Him (very loudly but not yet loud enough for him to call it ‘yelling’): You let Junior drive your car?!
Me: Yes. I mean NO! NO! I didn’t let Junior drive my car.
Him: …..
Me: Oh for fuck’s sake!! Yes I hit a damned curb! Twice actually. The first time it was bad city planning, and the second time it was Mim’s fault because she distracted me by talking while I was driving.
So. I was driving the big 1-ton dually and it has significantly more horse-power which turns me into a shouting, fist-shaking, finger-flipping, hair-tossing Harpy. I’m the sweetest driver on the planet when I’m driving my RAV, but Tina the Truck brings out the worst in me. And someone taking 20 minutes in the fast lane to pass someone in the slow lane drives me bananas. In the following 2 and a half hours I was forced to flip the bird to 4 drivers.
And then one other driver flipped the bird at me. As a matter of fact, they almost missed their exit so they could flip me the bird and that made my day. You have to admire such commitment.
I was telling my one sister (she drives the big transport trucks) about my finger flipping and she said she’s had to use both of her flipping fingers so much they’ve become Arthritic. She showed them to me. “See? Look at that poor little fucker.” (pointing with her other flipping finger). True story. A cautionary tale, if you will.
Due to construction and two freight trains my half hour buffer was toast, as was my early arrival allowance and I was forced into passing several vehicles that I normally wouldn’t bother with. I could just see my father waiting at the door to the restaurant, tapping his watch. “Cutting it a little fine, aren’t you Lor?” So, imagine my surprise when I arrived at precisely 1:54pm to find no one was there. Please, dear Gawd, don’t let me have the wrong day! I asked a waitress and she assured me there was a reservation for 10 at 2:00pm. But that’s only 5 minutes away and no one has arrived.
As it happened, everyone in the family is much better at nailing the time perfectly because at 1:59pm Mom was carefully exiting my older sister’s vehicle while everyone else was waiting for 1:59:59 before stepping into the building. Well…..I think that’s what they were waiting for.
Guess who wasn’t standing at the main doors tapping his watch? That’s right…..Dad. We all milled around wondering what could possibly have kept him from making inappropriate comments to waitresses, arguing with his daughters and being the center of attention? Those are the main sources of his life’s joy so it caused mass confusion in the herd.
It turned out he had to be taken to the hospital. He wasn’t doing well and we were all quite concerned. Thankfully, he was fine – an infection and some COPD – and after annoying his roommate and, more than likely, annoying the nurses for two days, they sent him home.
As for my drive home, it was far less eventful because there wasn’t any pressure to be perfect. No one was at home tapping his watch and shaking his head. The Viking was happily playing computer slots and enjoying the solitude when I finally got home. And…..he had a kiss on deck.
I admit I was half-expecting you to say you had the wrong day! Sheesh… Who brought Dad to the hospital? How did no one know? That does kill a party though… All that preparation (on your part, of course) and then… what? Did you guys take it to the hospital?
So many questions left unanswered, Lori. Why was the Viking not with you, anyway?
LOL!
1). The party was in the middle of the work week and we had customer machines that needed to be finished so more machines could come in. We could spare me but not The Viking.
2). My truck driving sister and her partner took Dad to the hospital while the rest of us stayed with Mom at the restaurant to celebrate her day.
3). For long, horrible moments I thought I had the wrong day as well.
4). I don’t know why no one knew that Dad was unwell. A sister called him when it was apparent he wasn’t at the restaurant and they went to get him. He was only with us for about half and hour before we all decided that he needed to be taken to the hospital and by that time we all had food on our plates.
We all went to the hospital within a half hour to check on Dad and he was still in emergency. The one sister would have called if things were deteriorating.
Did I cover all the basis? I was concerned that I was running long so cut out the smaller bits. 😁 I suppose it was bad editing?
Thank you! I was equally concerned about your Dad, whether it was the wrong day, and whether no one got to eat! That’s why they don’t let me plan things.
That’s why they never let ME plan things either. My skills are in other areas. 😊
Wow, that was a full day, even before the day started! Hoping that things go better than the finalé of your entry did!
Oh! And you said that you’d had a ‘serious consideration of just showing up naked’ — that would only work well if you were turning up at a Star Trek wedding. Not just any Star Trek but the ‘Star Trek: The Next Generation’ Betazoid nude wedding, and that I could remember any of that after not seeing it since the last millennium is the shocker.
The timely nature of Swedes is heritable trait. It is. Funny how they turn up at parties or dinners, and they’ll wait outside until the clock reads the precise time read on the invitation. I’ve lived that one.
Hmmm…..I totally forgot about the Betazoid nude wedding. Or maybe I didn’t even see it. Who knows? So many movies….so much nudity.
I think Germans are just as finicky about timing.
And the German is strong in our herd. 😊
Wow, I admire you for driving that truck–I don’t even like driving Ken’s little SUV. I hope your dad is feeling better!
Yes, Dad is feeling better. 😊
There was a time when I could only drive The Viking’s truck because I couldn’t get into my Corolla due to a back injury. For a year and a half I was forced into parking the behemoth in parking stalls made for normal sized vehicles so I got pretty good at it. It’s a rare occurrence that I drive it anymore – I have my RAV and that’s perfect for me. 😎
I was equally worried about your Dad’s health, whether you had the wrong day, and whether everyone got to eat! That’s why they don’t let me plan things.