Recommended wine for today’s entry: Poema Metodo Tradicional Cava. I choose this Spanish dry bubbly because we leave for Spain on Saturday — I know, FINALLY! This is what we will be toasting with tomorrow night in anticipation of this exciting trip. If you often find champagne too sweet after a glass or two, you have to try Cava. Yum! Actually, if I’m smart, I’ll leave a bottle for our housesitters … since we’re leaving THEM with the gimpy dog and the geriatric cat colony.
Woe is me, woe is me, woe is me.
I have spent the past two weeks at veterinarians, dentists, doctors and hairdressers. With the girls home from college, we’ve been getting all the pets in the house patched up and the people in the house polished, probed and preened.
The rest of the time, I’ve been running errands and more errands to ensure that on our trip to Spain I don’t forget something essential – like spare contact lenses for my daughter or a dual voltage straightener or Dramamine or crayons for the plane (yes, they are 18 and 21 – I never claimed they were mature).
Or my BLOOD PRESSURE MEDICINE.
As unpleasant as many of these experiences have been, there has been humor along the way. I am a bit high-strung lately, and I have very nearly blurted nasty retorts to some of the fine people I’ve been dealing with. Here are a few examples of things I wish I’d said:
Situation: In the liquor store, Friday before Derby. Hurrying to the wine refrigerator in the back because there’s no time for chillin’ before I’m be startin’ swillin’. I just made that up. I run into friend of mine who works at liquor store (and yes, she was my friend BEFORE she worked in a liquor store). A very large woman who looks like a Harlem Globetrotter in drag asks her how to make a mint julep with no alcohol because — with I swear a disparaging look at me as I stash bottles into my cart — NONE OF HER FRIENDS ARE (wrinkles nose in disgust) DRINKERS.
I wish I’d said: Sure you can, mister. That would leave you with a tasty blend of sugar, ice and a mint sprig. Ooh, ooh, I know — you could even add a touch of red food coloring if any of your friends are hummingbirds!
I bet they don’t gamble either. Sheesh.
Situation: That Sunday, which happened to also be Mother’s Day, our outside kitty turned up very, very sick. I mean, he looks like a float in the Macy’s parade and he wasn’t eating. He was dehydrated and lethargic. So I waited until 1:30 in the morning, waiting for what I really don’t know, THEN I announced to my husband that we were going to the Pet Emergency Room. This place charges you $400 to acknowledge your presence in the waiting room. After an exam, the vet, who was very nice, came out and explained that Anastasia (yes, it’s a he. Not my fault) was, indeed, very sick. He had formed crystals in his pee tube and they would need to be removed with a catheter — to the tune of $1,200- $1,400 if we left him there for the whole treatment.
At this point, I looked to my husband with the question — Are we gonna pay that?
And his response, which I wish I had said ‘cuz it was really funny: Well, what am I gonna do? Get it out of there with a straw?
It was even funnier at what was by then 3 a.m.
Situation: annual mammogram. Yee haw. So in the pre-smash interview, she said, “Do you have implants?”
And I wish I’d said: Yes, I got the pre-sagged B cups. They were on sale.
Then, just before she began to maul me, she said, “I think my hands might be a little cold.”
And I wish I’d said: You THINK they might be a little cold? I think you might be dead.
Then the OB/GYN asked me how menopause was treating me.
And I wish I’d said: Menopause? Nothing but pure awesomeness. Bliss. I was sweating so much in the line at the bank the other day, I swear I saw them go for the robber button.
Situation: When I went to pick up the cat from the overpriced emergency clinic and transport him to his regular vet, I told the four vet techs at the front desk what I was there for. They all smiled really sweetly, then all perused a menu, ordered their lunches, shared a few squirts of lilac-scented hand lotion, sent a fax to someone in the back room that said Happy Birthday, and then it took three of them to get the fourth dolt untangled from her own phone cord.
Then, looking at me as if I’d just walked up, one of them said, “Has anyone checked you out?”
And I wish I’d said: Not unless you count the pasty, bald guy in the corner with the chihuhua in his lap.
Instead, I paid them the balance of what we owed them, for which we nearly had to seek a second mortgage. Then I waited for 15 more minutes.
And I wish I’d said: Listen, I’m glad y’all are having so much fun. It’s been lovely to watch. But I gave you your $800 a very VERY long time ago. Now how about you bring me my corpulent cat with the half ear, dingleberries and the screwed up pee tube and we call it even?
Situation: Yesterday, I went to Walgreens to get a few last things for the trip. As I walked in, this ancient woman who moved like one of those rubber skeletons you hang at Halloween, all loose-jointed and stuff, dances over to the door, hops in front of me and goes, HELLO!!
Uh, hello, creepy scary lady.
Then she pops up in the toothpaste aisle, putting a hand on my shoulder and again shouting HELLO!! like she hadn’t seen me in ages and ages and was, in fact, my long-lost grandmother.
I just smiled.
Of course, she was also the checkout lady, and when she looked up and gleefully bellowed HELLO! I wish I’d said: Listen, lady, I don’t know what experimental happy pills the pharmacy department has you hopped up on, but I just think you should know that this isn’t your high school reunion.
You know, sometimes purging after the fact really does help. Thanks for listening.
There’ll even be a new post tomorrow, since I’ll be out of town for awhile. In honor of our 28th anniversary, I’ll be publishing
SHIT MY HUSBAND SAYS. You are definitely going to want to wait and read it after a couple beverages. Hysterical stuff!