Went for another veggie run last night...I put it off until 7:30 p.m., right after taking my youngest to tae kwon do, for a hair cut, and the market. I did that on purpose, because my parents go to bed by 8 p.m. Even in the summer when the sun's not down.
(When I used to come for a visit and had to stay with my parents in previous years before I moved back home, I would turn the TV on at eight to kill time until I got sleepy. My dad would come in to the living room, stare at me in silence, stare at the TV in silence, sigh, then asked when I was going to bed. Mom would come in about an hour later and tell me it was time to go to bed because the TV was disrupting their sleep. Later, the light shining under my bedroom door also disrupted their sleep. Knowing I used a flashlight by which to read magazines while in bed also disrupted their sleep. And headphones and the mp3 player...)
(I was in my 30s and 40s when I used to disrupt their sleep so much...)
(But Mom would die of embarrassment if I stayed at the Holiday Inn Express and anybody found out about it.)
So, my plan was to dash in, tell them I had milk in the car threatening to curdle, grab the veggies, gush with gratitude and dash out again. Two minutes!
Dad opened the front door. He actually evaluated me as he scanned me from head to toe, scowled a little.
"How are you doing, Dad?" He shrugged and grunted as I tried to give him a hug.
"Dear?! Georgia's here!" He scampered back to his bedroom. Mom scampered out, breathing a little heavy.
"Hi! I was on the bike!" She has to tell me every time she rides her exercise bike. She rides it for five minutes, a few times a day. She makes a point of telling me how much time she spends on her bike.
Mom slipped past me into the kitchen. On the floor there are two plastic bags. One has a bag of green beans, two zucchini and a "bag of those keenezika horta you really like." In Greek, horta is the general term for edible greens, like beet tops, spinach, Swiss chard, etc. The keenezika horta are what my mom calls baby bok choy. She doesn't eat them, because they're keenezika (Chinese), so these were specifically bought for me.
"The fasolia are too hard for me." Green beans. If she can't cook them until they disintegrate, she can't eat them. "Rhyan likes them." She's constantly on the prowl for vegetables my kids will eat.
"Kera Maria brought me this chard and I can't eat it all. You take it, make spanakorizo." It's a spinach and rice dish, another one that I've loved since childhood. You can also make it with the chard.
"Thanks Mom! Okay, got to go." Kiss, kiss..."Love you!" Reach for the front door knob...and...enter Dad.
"Here...read this." He hands me an envelope that's been opened. "I want it back when you're done with it, so don't lose it."
"What is it?"
"It's from a doctor" (and the term doctor is really suspect in this application) "who tells you how to lose weight." Dad stuffs the envelope in one of the bags of vegetables. I paused, took it out of the bag and handed it back to him.
"Here Dad. I really believe that's probably something I would lose, so you keep it." I kissed him good-bye and left.
Has he not noticed that I've lost 50 lbs in the last couple of years? And that I'm still working at it? No, he doesn't notice these things. He only wants me to buy his colon cleansing vitamins. So I can whistle out my ass too.
In the car, I took a moment to breathe, shake my head, laugh a little and let it all go. It's all fodder for another blog entry.
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