... normally call me on Sundays. But tonight they were late, so I called and my mom answered. She sounded funny. Did I wake her up? Had she been crying?
"Oh, hi honey!" she said, "not that we forgot you..."
"Except we did." That was my dad's voice in the background.
"Did you really?" I asked.
"Rick and Christa came over."
Ah, OK. Old friends visiting from out of town. That funny sound in Mom's voice wasn't sleep or tears. It was alcohol. They had friends over and had a lot to drink and forgot they had a kid. So I said it was OK and they didn't have to talk and they could go back to the friends and the drinking and she said, "OK."
"I'm not missing any limbs and haven't gone to the emergency room."
"OK."
I know they love me and all, but it's hard to compete with a refrigerated box of wine.
About Me
- Holly
- I'm 38 years old, and over a decade into a time of serious Waiting. Waiting for everything I'd always hoped I'd have. I've had to let go of some dreams, but instead of losing them, it's looking like God is bringing them back with some other long-forgotten dreams in tow. I'm now in the process of exploring things I'd previously ruled out for myself, and they all involve performance or audience interaction somehow. So it appears I'm a ham. Still waiting, still in process, but becoming ever more hopeful. A Christian looking for God in what's real. Trying to figure stuff out. Let me know if you think I'm onto anything.
2 comments:
Now you're learning.
Hey! We haven't had boxed wine in years.
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