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Tuesday, September 25, 2012

"So Mom Takes Me to the Vet Today..." by Yum-Yum, tragically non fiction

For the very first time in my storied career as
editor of this blog and my brief stint as contributing editor of the MOD Blog, I 
really don't even know WHERE TO BEGIN!

Hmmmmm...O.K. let's begin with me, since I'm my favorite subject. Mom took me to the vet today! Whee.

Did I have an appointment?
Was there a reason for me to go?

 It was only to pick up more of my meds. The vet staff were as surprised as I knew they would be and delicately as possible reminded mom that they had spoken with her TWICE on the phone yesterday about how to Stupis-Proof my meds so she got it right and my many maladies and afflictions could receive the proper treatment I deserve.

She looked about as stunned as she did last night upon seeing our agoraphobic neighbor downstairs meeting the pizza deliver guy. She said (she always says this to him) "It LIVES!" then as he paid for a NOT SMALL box of something we knew was not vegetarian she asked, "Wow! If it wasn't Friday I'd say you're about to watch a football game on your gigantic, flat screen T.V. mighty neighbor."

Mighty Neighbor, pizza balanced delicately as he walked back into the building with her, replied "I am watching football and it's Monday."

"No it isn't. It's Friday."

"It's Monday. Monday night football?"


"Well, it is."

"Hmmmm, considering you rarely come out of your man-cave, are you S*hitting me? IT'S REALLY MONDAY? PROVE IT! WHO'S PLAYING?"

"The Seahawks."

"What? What? What? What? The Seahawks? Monday Night Football with the Seahawks?! Can I come? I have a special 12th Man jersey and if I wear it they will win! And I have never watched anything on a flat-screen T.V. before."


Mom is so excited! She comes in, highlights the appointment that I don't have with the vet tomorrow/today, not so unlike the end of last night's game, digs out her Seahawks jersey and enters her first "MAN CAVE!"


After half the game and having endured a relentless migraine for a week, she has to put a pillow over her face while the referees make hand signals she has never seen before even though she has been a Packers (eek, but true) fan since Vince Lombardi, Bart Starr, and Co. led them to the Very First Super Bowl Victory in History. It was still B & W, she says. The referees (temps filling in for the ones on strike) are making signals with their hands and arms that resemble something sailors would do aboard ships at sea, lots of  things that could be interpreted as religious, military, Boy Scout badge material, who knows?
Well, neighbor is kind enough not to eat his meat and before halftime she feels a seizure gonna happen if she keeps watching (although from the sky, Seattle sure had become beautiful) and she leaves.
And misses the extraordinary Hail Mary "touchdown- touchback" at the end!  Bummer.
Get up early, sets the alarm clock (notice any neural sequencing issues here?) and we go to the vet and I am so bored.

Then we come home and she discovers Sir Paul is going on tour having just written his first musical score for a ballet.
And decides that since he was her favorite Beatle before George Harrison was (and remains) her favorite Beatle and she has been practicing her para-paradiddles, that she will finally get "back into a band and go on tour."

Which brings me to this: 
where do I EVEN START?

pity us?
if you don't, now would be 
a good time to start.

Seahawk 12th Pig!
(Google "12th Man" you people 
who will never understand us 
Pacific Northwesterners!)

{mom got Traumatic Brain Injury, forgot to mention, it's only fair to say, i guess...}
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  1. Last night would have been an exception since that game was anyting BUT! Even President Obama and Paul Ryan commented on the flying circus! The ref hadn't even worked more than high school and maybe community college games and there he was BIG AS THAT SCREEN on Monday Night Football and it was more like watching "Monty Python" assuming the ball was the "Holy Grail!" I love mortification and that game had it IN SPADES! lol!

  2. I am with you, Ms.A.