Once more into the fray, time to don my pink gown (opens in the front for easy access!) present myself as Good-Patient-Plemitscher, compliant-not-complaining, perky-and-positive, and just what is it with me and the alliterative-hyphenated thing lately?
Coffee...need coffee. Last night, the three humans and two dogs consumed massive quantities of home-cooked surf and turf, accompanied by two bottles of wine from the 1990s! The good stuff. The cellar stash. The laid-down-for-more-than-10-years-reds. Oh my, died and gone to Napa Valley heaven, that's what it was. I love visiting the Goldbergs--it's like being right in the middle of an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, without stuffy and obnoxious Robin Leach narrating, just 3 too-loud people yakking and laughing all at the same time. The dogs were barking at us, we got so raucous.
Now in the foggy light of morning, I am reflecting that for everything I've been through, I haven't reformed my evil ways. I eat seriously char-broiled steak (OK, there was some divine marinated swordfish too!) and drink red wine, and wake up with parched tongue and pounding head, go straight for the very thick and hot Peet's blend to pull myself together before my battle with C'Ville traffic and the inevitable undressing.
Today, I offer up a small morning prayer of the BC post-patient:
Lord, you alone know how tired I am of being felt up by men other than my husband--please grant me the patience not to go into auto-defense mode and hit one of my doctors this morning.
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2 comments:
And you have the nerve to make snarky (LOL) comments about bisquits and gravy???? I guess it's just a Southern "thang". Have a safe trip home - will be waiting for details.
"Mert" :-)
Pam, I loved your ending...it made me laugh.
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