...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Monday, December 03, 2007

Saturday was recorded before a live studio audience

At about 1 p.m. Saturday, as I finished washing the dishes, wiped my damp hands on a festive holiday apron tied jauntily around my tiny waist, straightened the strand of pearls around my delicate neck, and freshened the curls in my bobbed hair, I turned to yell something at my husband and realized my house was filled with the beaming faces of people I didn't recognize.


Trapped in our home thanks to the !!!!!FIRST MAJOR WINTER STORM OF THE SEASON. YOU DAMN WELL BETTER GRAB YOUR LOVED ONES AND PRAY FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!!, my family had transformed from the usual band of roving bandits and ne'er do wells into a 50s sitcom brood. The first clue should have been the festive holiday apron I just made up that I was wearing because seriously? An apron? And yeah, like I'd be doing dishes in the middle of the afternoon. Sure.

Normally, the four of us are more akin to that group of strangers hellbent on survival who come together at the beginning of Night of the Living Dead, so imagine my surprise to find being cooped up in the house had morphed me into June Cleaver, and Ward, Wally and the Beav were engrossed in a rousing, completely uncompetitive (i.e. not making up their own rules, crying, taunting, or yelling "Those are the rules! Deal!") game of Sorry! while I smiled bemusedly and lovingly filled the loving house of love with the succulent perfume of cookies, cakes and brownies! And what's that sound I heard through the sweet dulcet tones of quiet conversation and camaraderie? Was that Frank Sinatra crooning a holiday classic on the radio? Why, Wally! Beaver! Come sit at Mother's knee here aside the charming country Christmas tree as I regale you with holiday stories of my youth growing up in Happytownfunville!

"Mother, might you share with us the stories of how it was to travel to and fro in the olden days?" Wally asked. "No matter how often they are told, we never tire of their witty, moral-laden charm!"

"Before that, perhaps you'd consent to warm our hollowed bellies with a frothy mug of delicious hot chocolate and one of your special recipe chocolate chip cookies?" the Beaver inquired.

Me. Beaming. "Now, boys, I don't want you to spoil your appetites for the roast beast I've planned to nourish your souls and raise you up strong and capable like your father, but oh, your sweet angel faces (prayerful hands raised demurely to the side of my face, which tilted in charming glee to the right as I sighed contentedly). OK! But just this once! Ward? before I begin, shall I fetch you a fresh cocktail and your pipe?"

"That would be lovely, dear (which can also be read as "Heh. You said 'cock-tail'")," Ward said, smiling eyes peering over the top of the daily newspaper.

It was just that perfect in my house Saturday. For a few hours, as we listened the the icy rain fall and mask the view from our front windows, my family slowed down, lovingly rolled our eyes at Ward's amusing tales of lore, watched holiday classics and enjoyed being together. At one point I looked at Ward over the sandy haired glory of Wally and the Beaver and had an incredible urge to burst into a song and dance production in the living room. It was just that perfect!

But, like any good television show with a few seasons in the can - You know the ones? Where the quality has gone downhill and you find yourself wondering why you still TiVO it when you know it's not like you'd be missing anything if you stopped watching (I'm talking to you, ER) - the laugh track on our perfect day started to sound a little forced around 5 p.m., when, an hour and a half into a game of Monopoly, the whining started. From me. Whatever. Seriously, why the hell can't a game of Monopoly last less than an hour and just be done? For the love of all that is good and right in this world, I'm prepared to go all zombie on someone about 30 minutes into a game, and not because I never get to be that adorable little dog.

Later, I think I heard Wally use a curse word. When I suggested Ward perhaps speak to our prodigal, he belched, adjusted himself, grabbed the newspaper and headed to the bathroom for a lengthy respite. I was going to say something to him about maybe turning on the air vent this trip when I caught sight of the Beaver ascending the couch and preparing a death-defying climb toward the peak of Mt. Christmas Tree. Wally, his encouraging, perhaps foul-mouthed Sherpa, was close behind, offering pointers and nibbles off a pilfered cookie. So much for ruining that dinner appetite.

Around 9 p.m., the icy rain began to peter out, and our enthusiastic family togetherness was now officially a wash. Those Night of the Living Dead zombies? Yeah, they had totally bust into the cabin and were growling for their first victim. Eventually, I surrendered this momentary lapse into idealism to a hour of Guitar Hero III for the boys, a computer game for Ward, and me on the laptop, chatting with the outside world. I imagine we'll go all Cleaver again before the season is over. When we do, be sure to check your local listings for reruns.

Because even though we're so one of those shows where the buzz has died down, you'd totally TiVO us, and you know it. So thanks for that. Now, let me fix you a plate of goodies, and be sure to say goodbye to the Beaver before you go.

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14 Comments:

Blogger Mandy Lou said...

Better than my Sunday - I'm not sure the chair will recover, I only got up to pee and eat (at least I got up to pee right?!). Scott spent the day downstairs with his tv and I was upstairs goofing around on-line and watching all my many hours of Tivo (I'm sure FADKOG is waiting with my Sunday shows!).

Sunday, December 02, 2007 7:16:00 PM  
Blogger Sailor said...

I'm so totally laughing right now, wishing for a live-action Tivo of that- and I don't even *have* Tivo!

Glad your Sunday was fun, here's hoping for more days like that, before the season is over.

Sunday, December 02, 2007 8:30:00 PM  
Blogger 1blueshi1 said...

I think the virus has spread to my family...my 10 year old just offered me a drink of water and I was not even dehydrated enough to require hospitalization and an IV! Now, if only I could get him to show the same consideration for THE DOG.
BTW, I will TOTALLY marry you, DKG. Let's give our ex-husbands undisputed primary custody of all the kids, and then WE can be the cool weekend parents who never make them clean their rooms. IT'S A PLAN!!!!

Sunday, December 02, 2007 8:48:00 PM  
Blogger kimmyk said...

I wanna live in Happytownfunville!

Were you wearing red lipstick too? I imagined you were. I hope that's alright. It was a lovely contrast to your pale skin in my mind. And I just want you to know that your hair has never looked lovelier.

Why do men blech grab their crotch and then always head for the bathroom?

Sunday, December 02, 2007 9:32:00 PM  
Blogger Nanette said...

Don't make me tell my Beaver joke again... Ha!

You really should be a writer, fantastic wordy words baby!

hehcktl

Monday, December 03, 2007 5:30:00 AM  
Blogger FTN said...

Heh heh. You said beaver.

So, to sum up, approximate time to go from Leave it to Beaver to Night of the Living Dead is less than eight hours. Honestly, making it eight hours is pretty darn impressive. Even the Cleavers themselves could rarely go longer than 22 minutes, plus commercials.

And yes, I'd love a mug of hot chocolate, thanks. Get me one of those cookies and I'll even let you have the dog the next time we play blogger Monopoly.

Monday, December 03, 2007 8:31:00 AM  
Blogger Stacie said...

The first hint I had that something was amiss was when you said you were wearing an apron. I was all like, HUH? I don't picture her wearing an apron!! and then I knew it...
I want just ONE day like that in my house, JUST ONE. Is that too much to ask? I thought I was going to get it today when everyone left for their respective schools and jobs leaving me with the house to myself, but the one of them called and said he was coming home sick and I knew my peaceful day to myself was ruined!
I'll have to live vicariously through your first hour..
Stacie

Monday, December 03, 2007 8:36:00 AM  
Blogger Phyllis RenĂ©e said...

I love to dress up in my little frilly aprons. But I think they came from Pleasantville.

Monday, December 03, 2007 1:23:00 PM  
Blogger Scarlett Wanna Be said...

Once, while in college but home for break, we had a huge snow storm...power was out and everything. My step-sisters and their families had to stay with us because we at least had warm water. By day 2, we were all drinking...alone...in our dark corners. Lucky for us the liquor stores managed to stay open despite the weather.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007 12:16:00 AM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Mandy - Once I settled into my couch, I never moved. Sure, it took most of the day to get there, but once I was, now I can't even recall going to the bathroom. You're one up on me in that regard!

Sailor - Forecast calls for snow. I think we may go more Addams family this time around...

1blueshi1 - I'm free tomorrow. Wanna get married on the quick then? My kids are pretty much used to not picking up their rooms, so I don't imagine they're gonna need a lot of time to adjust to the new family set up!

KK - at least you were imagining me wearing something, which is more than I can say for other company I've kept. There's a house next door to me for sale. Welcome to Happytownfunville! I'll bring muffins and coffee. Normally, I'm a recluse. I'd give that up for you, though, Kimmy.

Nan - I love beaver jokes. Or jokes about the Beaver. I don't so much think I'll make you *show* me the Beaver. Done days. Old news. Ha!

FTN - I freakin' LOVE boggle! Were you in my house this weekend when I was all "Why no one play Boggle with me!?" I will totally ply you with hot chocolate if you come spell words with me, mister.

Stacie - I love you. You know why? Well, for many reasons. But today it's because you didn't say you found things to be amiss when you read that that apron was tied around my tiny waist. I'm not an apron type girl. Nor am I crafty. I don't need the pressure and the delusion of cuttingo out hundreds of tiny hearts and snowflakes and hearts again. Not to mention glitter and whatnot. Yeah, it's better I just wear my pretend apron for pretend purposes.

Rambling now....ha! Still love you, though!

Phyllis - If I had some pretty aprons, maybe I'd wear them. I went to one of those entree ensemble places recently and wore a big old chef's apron. I felt kinda important. I hear that the trend in wearing them is coming back. My husband would probably dig me wearing *just* and apron next time.

Scarlett - Thanks for your visit. Hope you'll come back anytime! I love how liquor stores and pizza places always stay open during storms of such magnitude. The world truly has their priorities in place!

Tuesday, December 04, 2007 9:25:00 AM  
Blogger Desmond Jones said...

Death-storms can be such wonderfully warm, family-bonding times, can't they?

And, just so you know - Molly totally rocks the 'prayerful-hands-to-the-side-of-the-face-while-gazing-heavenward' thing. Even before we were married; I used to tease her about it. It was just so saccharine-ly cute, y'know?

And tell Ward that I totally get it - alone time on the can is precious on days like that. . .

Tuesday, December 04, 2007 9:31:00 AM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Desmond - Ah, my friend, I'm sure Molly rocks many things! But when she does it, do you see little stars floating around her head, lit by an ethereal glow? Because I think I have that happening. I just do!

...now, I will totally start calling it 'the can'...

Tuesday, December 04, 2007 5:02:00 PM  
Blogger Melissa said...

Your tale warms my heart. And makes me want a frilly apron instead of the scratchy rectangular sort I have hanging on the wall.

Friday, December 07, 2007 10:52:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Melissa - I'll get ya one of those 'kiss the cook' ones for Xmas!

Monday, December 10, 2007 12:03:00 AM  

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