Figs. Really?

There's this great moment in the movie, "Love Actually" when Laura Linney is standing at her front door with easily the hottest first date any woman could imagine, and after she timidly asks the gorgeous guy if he'd like to come upstairs for "a little bit" (and he, of course, says yes), she stops and says to him, "Good. Yeah. Could you....just.....give me......a moment?" He says, "Sure", and she calmly excuses herself, hands him the keys to hold, walks carefully through the door, around the corner, and up the first four stairs of her apartment where she then proceeds to silently scream (no that is NOT an oxymoron. I do it all the time, for totally different reasons.....which is the reason for today's blog) as she inaudibly explodes in elation and unbridled joy.

Case in point: The g.d.m.f.c.s. Bell rang for a good twenty seconds straight (STRAIGHT!) this morning at 8:30 and I dutifully walked to the other end of the house, half-naked, teeth unbrushed, brain semi-functional, only to find my mother calmly and happily lying in bed smiling at me from ear to ear.

"Good morning!" she greeted me.

I threw up a hand in a half-hearted, non-spoken hi.

Then a pause.......during which Mom just laid there smiling at me. (I hate it when she does that. She used to do it every time I came home from high school. I'd walk through the door and before I could even get the door closed she'd be there, big smile, "Hel-Lo!!!" and then nothing for what seemed like an eternity before I would finally mutter something like, "hey..." and then go directly to the solitude of my bedroom.)

But back to this morning........so I finally asked her, "So.........what do you need?"

Then another pause.........during which Mom searched her mental Rolodex (cuz by that time she had, of course, forgotten why she rang the bell).

Then she finally said, "Oh nothing. I just wondered if you were up."

Seriously? I mean...........SEERiously?!

So I turned around and went back to my room to wait for my brain to wake up.

That's how the day started. But there's more.

A few hours later, after Mom has had breakfast, I've done all the morning chores and have nestled into my office to work, Dad rolls in as usual and immediately barks at me, "THIS A WORK DAY!?" (That's not a typo. That is exactly how he says it.)

Let me explain something here. There's one of those Six Degrees of Separation things that happens between the way Dad gets himself completely worked up over money matters and almost any other subject.......like whether or not I'm working. Here's how it goes.......If I'm working, that means I'm earning money, which means I'm able to pay my bills, which means he doesn't feel responsible. (Okay......four degrees.....)

All right. I wasn't born yesterday, so what do YOU think I say to him when he asks me, "This a work day?"

Anyone?

RIGHT! I say "yes." Of course I say "yes"!

He's satisfied. He says, "Okay" and then turns around and leaves. It's one of the many little verbal "dances" we do.

Anyway........so we do the whole "this a work day?" exchange. But today he doesn't leave. Instead he launches into a soap box tirade about figs. (Yes, FIGS. And, can I just point out that, I really WAS trying to work.)

"You know, "he says, "............FIGS only ripen on the tree."

okay.

He continues,"They have a Very Short Shelf Life."

right.

"That's why you can't always get them in the store."

yeah.

"So..........we need to go to CostCo and get some more."

See what he did there? Wound his way all around the map JUST to get to the fact that he NEEDS to go to CostCo for.........figs. Today.

"So when can we go to CostCo? WE NEED to go to CostCo!"

for figs.

really Dad?

Let me explain something else. Okay. So..........first off.......I've started my day by being summoned by the Almighty Bell for no-good reason. Now, I'm trying to get in a solid several hours of work because.......it's Thursday.........which means Mom has her 1pm hair appointment and Dad has his 3pm retinologist appointment and I have rehearsal at 6:30 for a show that opens in a week (theatre folks, you know what THAT means). In other words, I have a couple of relatively narrow windows of time during which I need to get a solid several hours of work done, take my morning/afternoon walk, eat two substantial meals, and shower before I have to leave for rehearsal at 5:30. The day's a little tight. And now Dad NEEDS to go to CostCo......for FIGS.......because they have a really short shelf life..........because they only ripen on the tree (which, by the way, is true, cuz I Googled it).

So I say to Dad, "I don't have time to go to CostCo today..."

And before I can complete the sentence, Dad cuts me off, "Well when can we go?! We have to go!"

And I vent back at him, "I don't know! I have rehearsal every night for the next week and I have work to do every morning! I'll stop at Sunny Farms and pick up some figs on my way to rehearsal!"

And he barks back, "Well something's got to give!" (which is one of those button statements that Dad throws out when he thinks he's being assertive but he's actually just being ridiculous)

And he follows up the bark with an equally ridiculous statement, "I'll go by myself if I have to!"

really Dad?

And I just look at him and say, "Be my guest."

So here I sit, in my office, emphatically tapping away at my little keyboard and..........well..........could you.........just...........give me.......a moment?

Cuz I'm feeling a little.........overwhelmed at the moment.