Obligatory Pumpkin Patch Pic
9:30. Less Bad Mega Superstore is closed so I go to Really Bad Mega Superstore to buy glue traps, glass & metal dry goods containers, four rolls of paper towels, and bleach. It’s to be expected, this little bit of extra company in the fall. We live less than a block from the river in an ancient rental house full of cracks and gaps. Time to renew the yearly commitment to washing all dishes every night, wiping up every crumb, drying out the sink and stopping all the drains. Except that we’re exhausted all the time so I don’t know how it’s going to happen.
Yesterday. I was having a miserable time of it–unlike today’s pumpkin farm trip at a location I won’t reveal because I love the smallness of the place, where you use the bathroom in the family’s farmhouse and the grandkids help carry your gourds to the car, the place we took the group home guys yesterday was the D*sneyland of pumpkin patches, complete with dumb theme ‘rides’ and a kid puking in the crowded bathroom–but I was determined that the guys would have a good time, and they did. I wish I could say that their joy was infectious (wouldn’t that be nauseating anyway?) but just as I was about to cheer up–we were in line for the hayrack ride (PA readers, this is the same as a hayride) which one of the residents was very excited about–a woman came up to me, rubbed my shoulder and said, “I admire your patience.” “Oh, he doesn’t take much patience.” He’s right here within earshot, dammit, and why would you assume that his wheelchair and retardation automatically make him difficult? “Oh, I’m sure he is.” “No, he’s actually a lot of fun.” (moving away) If you were really genuinely trying to be nice you would have backed off after my first response. Now it’s clear that you want to go home feeling good about yourself, encouraging that nice young lady whose job is such a burden and thanking God you don’t have to do it and that someone else is ‘willing’ to for a pittance.
Grrr.
Yesterday at Mass, the bishop mentioned that there was going to be a parish lunch afterwards. He rhetorically asked the congregation, “Did you know about that?” Evidently he forgot that it was the Mass celebrating Religious Special Ed. He got quite a few affirmative shouts, and some listings of the menu.
Not really related to your post, but funny none the less.
PS
Umm….how is it that your child is standing in the pumpkin patch? Didn’t he get the memo Re: his father’s genes? Our side of the family doesn’t know what to do with an early walker….
Sadly enough, I’ve had to walk away from people saying similar things about my perfectly perfect son–after they find out I’ve adopted and that I haven’t “strayed” and had a baby with a Black man. Some people…