Well not too many days later Abrie had to use the bathroom. When she came out she had a look of disappointment on her face;
Abrie: "Grandma, I can't eat apples any more."
Grandma: "Oh ya, why is that"
Abrie: "I think I have the quesadilla's like Macie has"
I'm afraid that diarrhea will forever be referred to as "the quesadilla's" in our family for now on.
Eating Mexican [food] will never be the same.
4 comments:
Thats SOOO funny! Miss you guys already and hope you're back into the swing of things back home
I hope it's never the same to eat Mexicans; that’s sick and wrong!
I told you I wouldn't see you again while you were here. You're too preoccupied with everything that's more important than me!
Sorry; if you can't tell I'm depressed.
Jill left me this evening. After all of the "I love You's," she walked away! I begged her not to go; but to her, my words were nothing more than the brilliant illusion of colors that bend themselves across the heavens at the passing of a mid summer's storm. They were nothing more than that spectacular, fleeting moment; stolen by the darkness that slowly crept itself around me with the fading of the Sun.
She packed up her things and took away my precious baby boy; but fortunately, she left me with me my sweet, little Angel and my mischievous, little Devil (a.k.a., Mini-me). Within the belly of the vehicle that robbed me of the Life of my Soul, we watched Her disappear.
In Her absence, I am a ship without a rudder; or better yet, I am ship without ocean, stranded upon a desert of empty dreams. Void of Her presence, I am nothing more than a seed without earth; unable to root itself in the “hope of a better world.” She is my Window that filters in the light. She’s the Window through which I see my stars. She’s the Window to my soul; She is my soul.
Now, in my loneliness and through blinding tears, I sit gazing into the Heavens above; knowing that just beyond the reach of my mortal eyes, still beams brightly the Beacon of my Soul. In the darkness of silence, I search for the shadow of hope that She will come back home. But I fear that my hope is in vain and that I am left to remain this wandering soul without life.
I will try to be strong. I will try to go on; but to hold on to that optimism is no more realistic than the will that encompasses the bubble that’s blown away from my kids’ toy to endure the collisions that lie ahead; or the resolve of a tiny sparrow with the determination to survive its flight through the vast hurricane.
I guess I need to face reality. I need to acknowledge that I will remain an empty, barren vessel forever… or at least until Her plane returns this Sunday evening.
I don’t know what I’m going to do through the eternity of these next couple of days. I think I need to call the Relief Society President so she can organize meals. But wait! That will only take care of dinners. What about breakfast and lunch? What about the cleaning?! Who will do Nicole’s hair?!!! Who will keep me warm at night if I get cold or tickle my back to help me fall asleep?!!!!!! Who can I complain to if my ankle starts hurting me to the slightest degree?!!!!!!!! What if I break my other ankle?!!!!!!!! What if I start to feel sick (I think I am feeling sick already!)?!!!!!!!!!! Who’s going to laugh at my dumb jokes?!!!!!!! Who’s going to do the dishes; the laundry?!!!!!!!!!! (Yep, I’m already feeling sick.)
I know!! I’ll call my mommy! After all, she is a relief society president; and I should come before everyone else in her ward – even before everyone else in the family, for that matter! (I think I’m starting to feel a little bit better now. I was starting to have a panic attack!)
Well, I guess I better go upstairs and find where the kids have passed out and put them to bed.
Oh! But first (in all seriousness… to the degree I’m capable of); as much agony as I am in (even to the extent that it is difficult to write – as you can tell), when I read your previous posting on your “blooger,” about the guy who made that comment at the end of your flight; it pissed me off bad. I can only fathom how mad Nate was, with him being the dad and husband (as humble as he is – kind of like me); however, he needs to be an example to you and your children and so there isn’t much he can do. I, on the other hand, am the uncle and brother. I don’t have to be an example. I want your flight info, please; and anything else you can help me know (I’m serious – which is rare). I’ll find out about this guy.
When he replied on how many children he had; in response, you should have asked, “How many different women are they from?”
FYI – If the part of him having children is true, it wasn’t the actions of your kids on the plane that got to him. What got to him was the memory that your kids’ actions stirred of his own LACK and FAILURE of being a father and/or husband. It is impossible that it is any other way (if he has kids).
This is further substantiated in his remark, “After seeing your kids, I feel like I did a pretty good job;” which illustrates that he is cognizant of the fact to his own blatant incompetence and ineptitude of his role as a father. If it weren’t so, he wouldn’t have had the need to state this particular statement, in the sentence above. It manifests the obvious weight of this question he has been carrying with him for some time and his need to justify and compare it with others. (I don’t know if this makes sense. It’s extremely difficult for me to think when I’m tired – this is why I rarely can think!)
Anyway, don’t beat yourself up over the things that you wish you would have said; leave that to me! You’re a great mom (but I’m a fantastic uncle) and no matter what you do and how hard you try, there will always be those people around to criticize; to hurt you the way that they hurt (see the end of 2Ne 8).
This brings me to my whole point:
If I’m depressed, I have pick on my baby sister and point out her strange wording, such as, “Eating Mexican[s] will never be the same.” This is because I hope to hurt you the way that I hurt. This in turn makes me happy!
I’m tired now (and to think; I was only going to write one or two paragraphs).
WOW! that is the LONGEST comment I have EVER seen (sorry for those who had to suffer through it) :)
Tyson, you're a dork. Jill will be back when she's done seeing her brothers graduation...So stop being so dramatic, take some Prozac, pull yourself together and pop some frozen dinners in the microwave. Just make sure the kids are still alive when she gets back, I can't afford to fly home again to attend any funerals.
Thanks for coming to my defense (about the airplane guy [Satan in human form]). You don't need to worry about calling the airline. I've already taken care of it. I've prayed about it and he should be getting hit by a car sometime in the near future.
That hurt.
Feeling down and so low, I'm fighting each moment to exert what little energy I have, into each breath I take; and you have to rip me apart and call me a “dork.” The anger of that man has obviously left you cold and dark inside, festering with anger; and now you seek to tear down anything that is good, pure, and lovely, just like me.
Ginnie, there is still hope for you. Take yourself back to the “Grow Room” (mentally) and feel the love and energy that emanates from within. Let it heal you of your pain and shed light into that darkened soul of yours.
Anyway, why would I call the airport? That wouldn't do anything, unless for some reason we are no longer entitled to have opinions anymore on our flights. It’s a starting point to find out who he is.
I have to make one more quick comment (or at least I hope so).
After I went upstairs, Nicole woke up; and so I said to her, “Happy Halloween.” She got all excited and couldn’t really sleep. After a little while, she called me into her room and said, “Make sure you wake me up when it’s time to go.” I agreed and went back to bed.
This morning she came into my room and woke me up all concerned, saying, “Daddy, you forgot to wake me up.” I then frantically replied, “Oh no! I’m sorry Nicole. We missed Halloween!”
You should have seen her face. It was so sad; and I quickly had to tell her that I was kidding. If I wasn’t her dad, this would have one of the funniest things ever (but I guess it still kind of was).
Well, Happy Halloween!
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