Chuckle

I've been visiting this blog for some time now. Jenn is going through a divorce and has such a refreshing way of looking at the world that I find myself drawn to her blog every day.

Anyway, just when we were grousing at home about the rubber check my ex sent my son last year for Christmas, Jenn posted this and I wanted to share it with you.

I'm feelin' kinda Grinchy....

...and for the moment, it doesn't have anything to do with The Idiot. I'm going to take a break from him for a moment and spend a little time talking about my father.

My parents got divorced when I was 7 - a long time ago. My dad took that as his permission to go ahead and forget his original family (us - me and my brother and sister) and have a new one.

Ok...I'll acknowledge it probably wasn't that simple and he probably tells a different story.

But since he doesn't tell it to me, I can only surmise that he's 'assy' as my sister says. He lives about 25 miles away from me and he's seen his only familial grand-daughter exactly 4 times. It's not a priority for him. Which makes me like him even less.

ANYhoo...I got my Christmas gift from him today - in the mail. It was mailed directly from the company off the internet. On the mailing label was my first name and my daughter's first name - as if it were one name. Also on the mailing label was the message 'Merry Christmas From Dad, (enter his wife's name), (enter his son's name)

Already, his thoughtfulness is noted.

BUT - it gets better. I open the box and it contains 8 pears. For which my gratitude will never end...you know...since you can't buy pears at the grocery store.

I know...you're thinking...no way! But it gets BETTER! Enclosed in the box is a pamphlet. I'll just type the first paragraph for you -

SO WHO'S PERFECT?

These Maverick Royal Riveria Pears didn't make it into the final round of judging in our beautiful fruit contest - but what a treat to eat! Some have been dappled by the sun or dinged by a summer hailstorm. And some just aren't very pear-shaped. In one way or another, each of them has gained some degree of "character" during the growing season.

My dad sent me rejected pears. Every one of them is bruised to some extent, one is leaking something, and a couple are turning into pear-raisins they're so old. Last year, at least his mail-order gift included cheese and some tea. It truly gets better and better.

I'm clearly his favorite though, because he didn't send anything to my brother or sister. (That fact is worse to me than the fact that he sent me rotten pears.) When I talked to my brother he had to get off the phone to 'shop' for our father's gift in his fridge. He was pretty sure there was something wrapped in old aluminum foil that would be perfect. My sister just guffawed.

As my good friend said - my father's thoughtfulness is utterly astonishing.

At least there's some humor to be found - I chuckle whenever I think about it.

And we thought a rubber check was bad...

After the holidays, I'll have time to sit and finish the epic saga. I promise, you won't be disappointed.

Let it suffice to say that I've gotten a "get out of jail" card for my father and will be going down to bust him out of the VA Center tomorrow. He and his wife and her daughter will stay with us from tomorrow through Monday. I'll be sure and stock up on the wine tonight. I checked my Prozac prescription and I have ample to get me through.

With this, I'll likely be signing off until after Christmas -- Tuesday at the earliest.

My (our) best to all. Be safe. Be warm. Be forgiving. Give something of yourself.

Merry Christmas!