If I have any readers left… some funny conversations recently.
It takes all types to make the world go around, doesn’t it? So, in my last high brow post, I suggested we rejoice with those who are having large families. At least one reader was offended, but maybe there is more. I guess there is room for differing opinions, what about the small families or the people with no children? If the decision is to rejoice with the large families, is it a license to criticize the small ones? Absolutely not.
I think it was: Mommamindy who mentioned that she does not go up to a family with only two children and say, “So, where’s the rest of them?” Yeah. I laughed too.
And I have a special burden especially for the families with no children who really wanted a family and were never able to have them. I haven’t experienced that type of pain, so my sympathies are with them also. So, in reality, I root for the underdog. After spending a lot of time with larger families this summer by way of our summer orchestra, I was drawn to them– their courage, their faith, and their way of life. And even though I get tired just imagining what their lives must be like, I would just like to give honor to whom honor is due. That is all I was saying.
So, as to not end on such a heavy note, I have a funny conversation to relate.
I called my parents’ home. My dad answered the phone.
Me: Hey! How’s it going?
Dad: I didn’t receive anything from anyone!
Me: Neither did I ! Dad, what were You hoping for? Did we forget your birthday?
Dad: Oh Jena, it’s you. I just hung up with some friends and they were trying to email me.
Me: Oh, good. You had me nervous there for a second!
After discovering that my dad’s dad (Grandpa Al) was showing signs of dementia, I was starting to wonder if Dad was catching it at the same time. Grandpa is 91, and my dad is only 66.
My grandpa has always been a quirky dude, but lately, he’s been doing some strange things. Normally, it would be a sad thing, but there’s something very funny about his behavior.
He has just decided that someone is stealing his tools in his basement. (Yes, they still live independently) So, he bought a lock for the basement door to make sure that no one is going down there to sneak out the tools. Besides, it takes him several minutes to lock and unlock that thing all day long, so it’s like having a new toy.
There is something valuable down there, but it’s not the tools. It’s my Dad’s moose meat. Yes, the much coveted moose meat now has a secure, locked home in my grandpa’s basement. So, why is my Dad hiding his moose in the basement? Easy. Because “someone” might steal it. (This “someone” gets around, I say)
Me, I don’t have a lock on anything. I would like anyone who would like to steal anything from my home to read the following notice:
Help yourself. Everything here is from a garage sale, recycled or reused. My food is available to anyone who shows up. I have no cash, but if you find a quarter in the laundry room, feel free to take it. While you are in there, throw in a load.
If you read the sides of the boxes in the dungeon, it will tell you exactly what’s in each one. Return the boxes to their correct locations after you get what you need. Oh, and empty the dehumidifier while you are down there. Give it a giggle; it’s on the brink.
What else? my most valuable things might be too large to fit into your box, but you can try.
1. My relationships.
2. My memory
3. My talents and ambition
and most importantly,
4. my God.