Thursday, April 21, 2011


When I was a small child, pre-kindergarten, I had a plastic turtle. Not only could I pull it around by its reigns, but I could also ride it. And when it was bounced on, it shot ping pong balls out of its mouth.

At the time, my mother belonged to the Junior Women’s Club. They were holding a White Elephant sale and she, for reasons she has yet to explain, decided my most beloved toy of all time, my turtle, should be donated to it. As you might imagine this caused major amounts of heartache and hysteria on my part. So much that my father, who very rarely countermanded her decrees, attempted to locate and reclaim my turtle after the sale, as it hadn’t sold. Unfortunately, it had already moved on to wherever things went. The small child in me has never forgiven her for this.

Last week, my mother phoned and mentioned that she’s undergoing a tremendous amount of trouble with her back, was in extreme pain and could barely walk. She’s been having all sorts of tests, none of which show anything.

We spoke again last night. Nope, they haven’t figured it out yet. She informed me she had to go to the grocery store and was moaning about how much it was going to hurt. I offered to go for her but no, that wouldn’t do. I don’t know what she needs and she was opposed to making a very detailed list.

So here’s my solution. Since she can stand without being in too much pain, I am going to shove my rollerblades on her feet and fashion a harness with which I will tow her around the store like an overgrown pull toy. I will then stuff her mouth full of ping pong balls and when we get to something she wants added to the cart, she can spit one at it.

The moral – never, ever get rid of your child’s favorite toy because if you do, the universal powers that be will sooner or later do something to even things out.

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