Personal Shopper

Big sister (and I say that quite loosely) Lynn, a.k.a. “Hell on Wheels” is in for a big challenge. The shortster is undergoing a foot operation tomorrow and is being forced off her feet for a solid week before she can even transition to crutches for the duration of the next month. This would be difficult for anyone, but for someone like Lynn . . . well, let’s just say it ain’t going to be pretty. She can’t even delegate the job of pouring dog food into a bowl to someone else. She actually once accused me of attempting to control her life when I tried to do the same while visiting. Hell, the dogs were hungry and they didn’t give a damn if she hadn’t wiped the counter clean for the umpteenth time. Even though Lynn has a housekeeper who goes so far as to sanitize the walls once a week, Lynn can never stop cleaning. I also must say that she’s a very smart cookie, and literally runs the highly successful family business, along with everything else.

I took my Mom to meet Lynn halfway for a sojourn to her beautiful mountain home. Mom is staying with her for the first post-op week and I’ve gotta say that Mom looked more than a bit “trepidatious.” Love her, but Lynn is not what one would call “laid back” even in her finest moments. “May the force be with her,” sister Jennifer said, referring to Mom's predicament. After a much delayed lunch, (we were to meet at 1:30 and Lynn showed up at the rendezvous two hours later), mixed with criticism for my every move, including being weird for not liking raw tomatoes and exceedingly strange for laughing at one of my own jokes (somebody has to), they departed.

A visit to the tranquil Georgia mountains at Lynn’s house can be entertaining, but never soothing. Hey, if you want rest and relaxation go scuba diving naked with angry sharks! Lynn spends a lot of time yelling up the stairs at the boys, out the door at the boys, everywhere at the dogs, usually at me, in the car at the boys, and then some more at the boys. Threats are bountiful; consequences nil—the only reason that I continue to live and the main reason she must continue to yell even more loudly and frequently at my nephews in her large and cavernously echoing home. When there are threatening moments of calm, the boys fill such potentially relieving nanoseconds with their own yelling.

So I wish them all the best. Lynn had to rent a pair of child-size crutches. (Tee-hee.) So sue me, I think that’s funny.

I returned to my quiet home, still alone except for the dogs for company, and thought about how I love Lynn, my lifetime tormentor, and how I hope and pray that all goes well. Then I got on the Internet and ordered the perfect gift to arrive at her home just as she clears her anesthesia-induced fog—a bull horn! It’s the gift that will keep on giving. I’m sure of it!