Last Sunday was Mom's birthday.
Dad called and asked me to purchase a card for him to give to her.
It's great to hear his croaky voice getting clearer and stronger exactly one year after oral cancer treatment.
Prior to the disease he's been a man of few words. - I believe he's called me 5 times in my life.
But don't get me wrong - He's very pleasant and kind.
-So this is me in the store looking at "To my wife" birthday cards..
"To my beautiful wife;.."
no.
"You've always been there for me,"
nope.
"From the first time I saw you.."
no..I mean..- I really don't know if that's how he felt. I can't assume that.
"You do so much"
nada
"I know that I don't always appreciate"
no. This man's done a lot of appreciating but mostly other cheek turning
Humorous cards wouldn't do. Not his style.
So I was there..Forever..Which was bad because I had stuff to do and..between you and me - looking at cards makes me fart. - books do too.
"Why can't they have cards that subtly allude to years of resentment mixed with an apathetic love for an impatient hedonistic fat lusty two legged cheese worm?"
.I asked myself as I ripped another one.
"Something kind of cold, but perfectly acceptable. A well wishing for an unclassifiable fruitcake...I mean, does he go ahead and get a big lie card?....This is 2008, what's the deal with all these selfless beautiful birthday wives? What about - To my wife, I love you, Happy Birthday. What the hell is this three paragraph schmaltz?
*put, put, put*
"Goddammit. Now I have to move..I'll circle back.."
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