Exciting Return of Guest Post!

25 Jan

...and made its way to our house, 2012

 

Dead Adella’s Dad:

Poor Adella (or “Addy” as her mother’s family calls her, and you don’t need to worry about what I call her, but a hint is that it starts with “s” and ends with “panky butt mcgutt”… think about it). She is still sick! Lazarus has bounced back from his deuce of an infection, but by the rocky crags of Finland Adella is still as sick as ever.

Today her mom came over in the evening to help put the kids to bed and make dinner when I went to work. She always comes alone, because, well, she isn’t married. She didn’t marry you, or anyone for that matter. She is a tough broad who smoked unfiltered cigarettes and drank instant coffee (her description, not mine). She is interesting, too, like Adella, and they have some things in common. I wonder, if I met you, would I go, “Oh! There’s the rest of her.” I wonder if meeting you will make me understand Adella better… or is that putting to much on nature and not enough on nurture?

Her mom made blueberry pancakes and sausage. I’ll probably eat some for breakfast. It’s usually good, what she makes. You know, she’s been pretty happy being single her whole life, raising a little girl and just being tough. But when we take the kids over, its just her. And when she joins my family for holidays, its just her. When I married Adella, I didn’t get this sort of second family that so many people get. I got Adella’s mom.

And come to think of it: Adella never had any interest in finding you until the Lord had worked on her heart, as he is known to do from time to time, and my money bets that her mom wouldn’t have helped her try to find you until these present times, after her own “softening” from the Lord, if you will. And so you are kind of like a big thing, a symbol, for both these women, and it’s funny to me, I’m chuckling actually, to think that all this is happening and you’re totally unaware that you’re the focal point of all this. You’re probably in one of the 27 bedrooms of your mansion sleeping on a pile of rare paper money, your tears keeping the humidity at a balmy 83% as you wonder why you never had a son-in-law to give all your money to.

It’s all pretty crazy, especially since I only think of this stuff when I get on her to tread water for my wife until she feels better. It seems like there are so many angles to approach this whole thing from, even from Adella’s perspective. And then you throw in the whole son-in-law business and that makes it, what, like fifty times as many? And then two grandkids and I think they don’t have math to even figure out that level yet (When I was in high school, algebra stopped at “2.” I would think by now they have an algebra “3,” but I don’t get Popular Science or anything so I don’t know).

It’s crazy man. You’ve got a lot to process. And I smoke a pipe, so its like, can you even handle it? Can you even handle our family? I mean Adella makes yogurt all the time, Lazarus is basically a puppy who chews socks and we have to sweep Kleenex and pom-poms out of his mouth, and Zoe thinks “waking up” is when you walk into her room while she’s still awake. They say truth is stranger than fiction (which is a lie because I read Jurassic Park), and we’re all pretty strange. It’s gonna be nuts.
Looking forward to it,

Probably see you tomorrow I’m guessing,

JM

 

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