As my son and I shopped for school supplies today, I had mixed feelings. Senior year--the year every kid lives for and the year many parents dread. Then there are the parents like me who are not sure what to feel.
On one hand, it's a relief--he made it! One the other, it's sad because you realize they are growing up too quickly. Walking through the isles, I saw a mixture of ages. It seemed the older the child, the less excited they were--funny how that happens.
Waiting in line is always a joy. You find the most interesting gadgets, that are screaming, "Buy me, I'm only a buck". Then I saw it; a flashlight--a special flashlight that took me back in time.
Our home has never been a boring place, especially when the kids were little. My husband always made sure the kids were screaming and laughing. The worst was at bedtime. They would always ask me to send dad in to tell them a goodnight story."His stories are better", they would say. Before long, they were laughing. His stories would last at least 15 minutes.
"Settle down guys, it's bedtime, go to sleep, I'm not going to tell you again!"
This he said in a very deep voice for my benefit. They were silent a moment and then all three of them would be snickering.
I can't recall the first time this happened, but at some point, my husband decided it would be funny to pour cold water on our son while he was in the shower, then turn off the light.
"D-A-D!" Justin would yell. "One of these days, your gonna get it", he adds as he laughs.
This became a ritual, but it remained sporadic to keep the element of surprise at its best. When Justin was seven or eight, he came to me and told me he was ready to get back at his dad. You can imagine how thrilled I was!
Justin climbs onto the counter to get the pitcher. I never heard such a devious giggle come from an innocent child--I loved every minute of it. As he was walking toward the bathroom, I had a brilliant idea!
"J, come back here, you can do better than your dad."
I emptied some of the water, filled the pitcher with ice cubes, then added more water. Justin's giggle was almost scary. I had to help him carry it back to the bathroom.
I must have been a good influence on him because just before we got to the bathroom, he whispers in my ear, telling me he is going to turn off the light first and then throw the water over! I was so proud! I helped him onto the chair that I had quietly snuck in a few minutes earlier.
And then the deed was done. My husband gasped to catch his breath! We left the bathroom so fast and yes, Justin left the light off.
"Excuse me, mam, can you move up please?"
Another moment and I was back in our little singlewide trailer, watching the sunlight glisten off the lake.
"Daddy", yells Brittany from the end of our driveway--which is about 200 feet away.
"My hand is stuck, you gotta help me daddy!" My daughter is practically in tears while my husband stands still, debating whether or not to run to her rescue.
He looks at me, I look back--shrugging my shoulders, "It's your call", I say.
By this time, she is crying and yelling for help--promising with all her heart that she is not faking it. So he takes off, bare-footed down the gravel driveway to help her.
When he was about 5 feet away from her, she pulls her hand out of the mailbox and says, "Gotcha"!
Moving forward in line, I take a deep breath and smile at my son. Many jokes have been played in my family, but these two are dear to my heart as they represent the kind of relationship my husband would have with our children. They had fun with me at times, but this story isn't about me, so I don't need to get into that now.
There is one thing that continues to puzzle me; my son is almost 18 and he keeps a flashlight in his bathroom and his bedroom. Now that I think about it, there is a flashlight in every room of our house, he knows how to turn on the generator, and is well acquainted with the fuse box. Could it be…nah!
As for Brittany, she can still cry on a dime, and she is way too good at being tricky.
I am sure it's all just a coincidence and has nothing to do with their childhood.
On the other hand, if I should ever get random bills from a therapist, I'll know I was wrong.
Senior year and my daughter's 20th Birthday--what a day!
When my husband showers tonight, I think I'll throw a pitcher of ice water on him and turn off the light for old times sake.
What? There's a flashlight in there.
(C) Teresa Ortiz
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Aug 12, 2008
A Conjunction, An Adverb and Preposition--What do These Have to do with Writing?
The other day someone sent me an email in response to something I had written. He said I was an encouragement to him and he was looking forward to reading more from me. No harm here, this made me feel good. The problem is he went on to tell me that I was a prolific writer.
What in the heck is that? I had to ask someone at work the other day, because I was too lazy to pull out my dictionary. Sure, I have heard this word before and though it is somewhat of a sophisticated word, it never applied to me, so why look it up? Now that I know it means abundant, or continuous, or more of--is it even a compliment?
This was three days ago and I haven't been able to get it off my mind. It is time for me to confess; I have no business writing. What was I thinking? I mean really, I don't even know the basics.
What is a preposition? What is a conjunction? Should these words be capitalized? Let's see, noun equals person, place or thing-okay, well the last time I checked prepositions and conjunctions were "things", so I suppose I should have capitalized them.
The only thing I remember about conjunctions is the old Saturday morning cartoon, "Conjunction-junction, what's your function….something, something…phrases and clauses." What is a clause? Does it have something to do with Santa?
Have I mentioned that I failed English class three times? It was the teacher's fault, I'm sure. The tests were ridiculous--seriously; allow me to give you an example:
Instructions: Please breakdown the following sentence.
"Hector was outside playing with his brown Chi-Wawa."
Um, well, there is this boy and his name is Hector and um, he is outside playing with his brown Chi-Wawa.
I got an F. What other way can you breakdown this sentence? What didn't I get?
Eventually I passed the class--thanks to Tim, who sat in front of me, and willingly shared his answers in exchange for a back rub. It was a small price to pay.
So here I am, all these years later. What is the deal? If I would have known then, what I know now. Would I pass the test today? Um, well, I think his name is still Hector, and unless he went inside, he is still playing outside with his brown Chi-Wawa. Although, Hector is probably an old man by now and his Chi-Wawa must be dead, so does it really matter?
Okay, fine--I won't be lazy. Let's see what my trusty dictionary has to say.
Conjunction = A joining; or being joined together; union; association."
What? This sounds like marriage to me. What does this have to do with proper grammar? No wonder I failed.
As for an adverb, "Any of a class of words used generally to modify a verb, an adjective, another adverb, a phrase, or a clause…"
Gee, thanks Mr. Webster, of the New World, it's all making sense now.
Finally, the preposition "In some languages, a relation or function word, as English in, by, for, with, etc."
So let me see if I have learned anything new:
Hector = Noun
Was = Preposition
Outside = Adjective
Playing = Verb
With = Preposition
His = Pronoun
Brown = Adjective
Chi-Wawa = Dog
How did I do? What can I say, writing is a gift.
© Teresa Ortiz
What in the heck is that? I had to ask someone at work the other day, because I was too lazy to pull out my dictionary. Sure, I have heard this word before and though it is somewhat of a sophisticated word, it never applied to me, so why look it up? Now that I know it means abundant, or continuous, or more of--is it even a compliment?
This was three days ago and I haven't been able to get it off my mind. It is time for me to confess; I have no business writing. What was I thinking? I mean really, I don't even know the basics.
What is a preposition? What is a conjunction? Should these words be capitalized? Let's see, noun equals person, place or thing-okay, well the last time I checked prepositions and conjunctions were "things", so I suppose I should have capitalized them.
The only thing I remember about conjunctions is the old Saturday morning cartoon, "Conjunction-junction, what's your function….something, something…phrases and clauses." What is a clause? Does it have something to do with Santa?
Have I mentioned that I failed English class three times? It was the teacher's fault, I'm sure. The tests were ridiculous--seriously; allow me to give you an example:
Instructions: Please breakdown the following sentence.
"Hector was outside playing with his brown Chi-Wawa."
Um, well, there is this boy and his name is Hector and um, he is outside playing with his brown Chi-Wawa.
I got an F. What other way can you breakdown this sentence? What didn't I get?
Eventually I passed the class--thanks to Tim, who sat in front of me, and willingly shared his answers in exchange for a back rub. It was a small price to pay.
So here I am, all these years later. What is the deal? If I would have known then, what I know now. Would I pass the test today? Um, well, I think his name is still Hector, and unless he went inside, he is still playing outside with his brown Chi-Wawa. Although, Hector is probably an old man by now and his Chi-Wawa must be dead, so does it really matter?
Okay, fine--I won't be lazy. Let's see what my trusty dictionary has to say.
Conjunction = A joining; or being joined together; union; association."
What? This sounds like marriage to me. What does this have to do with proper grammar? No wonder I failed.
As for an adverb, "Any of a class of words used generally to modify a verb, an adjective, another adverb, a phrase, or a clause…"
Gee, thanks Mr. Webster, of the New World, it's all making sense now.
Finally, the preposition "In some languages, a relation or function word, as English in, by, for, with, etc."
So let me see if I have learned anything new:
Hector = Noun
Was = Preposition
Outside = Adjective
Playing = Verb
With = Preposition
His = Pronoun
Brown = Adjective
Chi-Wawa = Dog
How did I do? What can I say, writing is a gift.
© Teresa Ortiz
Aug 9, 2008
The Lakers Game Four and the Escape
So…..game four just ended. What game? Yup, that's the one-the Lakers didn't go so well tonight. Some of you might be feeling a bit sorry for me right about now. And yes, I quietly snuck out of the living room and found a safe place in the back room, in front of my computer.
Umm, what should I write? What story do I tell? Oh! I know, our dear friend, Laura Trahan, suggested that I write about my Speed Skating days sometime. No time like the present, I always say.
My sister and I got the fever for Roller Skating back in 19...something or another. The rink fast became our second home. (I can still hear the music playing in my head….Disco, disco duck, and then there was Donna Summers', Toot –toot, hey, beep-beep.)
Any-who, what was I saying? Oh. We lived and breathed skating. Now, I'm not one to brag, but I was pretty darn good. In fact, so good that when I showed the guards that I was ready for the next level, they changed the rules. Actually, after seeing me, they decided no one could ever do it better and didn't want the other skaters to be envious so they cancelled the event until further notice. To this day, I marvel at such a gesture.
Bad girls, talkin' ‘bout the bad girls…
I was so shocked when I learned that that song was about….ladies of the night! O' my, no wonder my father didn't like me singing that song when I was a kid, but that's another story.
Bear with me; I'm stalling… the temperature in the living room is beginning to drop, but I need a little bit longer in this back room.
Tic-tock, tick-tock, tic-tock.
Alright-y then. Back to the story.
The rink was especially packed that night; Friday nights were always the busiest so it made perfect sense to show the on-lookers and the guards (Especially Joe), how great I was.
"Hey Joe, watch me, I'm so ready"
"Terees, now's not the best time, the floor is packed."
"No, really, I'm ready"
"Fine, show me what-cha got"
With all the excitement and speed I was able muster, I weaved in and out of the slow people. As I came back around toward Joe, the total-babe floor-guard, I jumped up in the air and spinned around so that I landed in the backward position and gracefully continued weaving in and out of the slow people…At least that's how I imagined it would go.
Well, as my great fortune would have it, that's not what happened. The truth is, as I was coming out of my spin, my toe-stop leaped off my skate and those slow people got in my….okay fine, I tripped, is that what you wanted to hear?
As I came down for my landing, I didn't position my feet properly, and I fell backward. I fell so hard that I hit my head, and I laid on the floor while all those slow people got a good look at me. I twisted my wrist and I couldn't get up.
Hey, what happened to the music?
Suddenly a voice from heaven (or maybe it was the DJ), asked everyone to clear the floor and several of the floor guards came over to help me up. Joe, the total-babe floor-guard, picked me up and carried me off the floor. I don't know why, but my sister was so mad at me! Now that I think about it, everyone was. That was the last time anyone was able to skate backwards for--I don't remember how long!
I still think my sister was just jealous because I was carried off the floor by Joe, the total-babe floor-guard.
The good news is, eventually backward skating was back on, I learned how to position my feet correctly, and speed was our middle name..
The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me...you renagade, you had it made...
As I think about all my ventures in choir, drama, dance and cheerleading--each with their own set of mishaps, I can't help but wonder if this little ball of talent will one day be rich and famous and it is God's way of keeping me humble.
Yeah, I'm sure that's it. I will take such pride in the fact that I will always remain a humble and grateful person. I'll even check in with my old friends on occasion.
Just so you know, I've even grown patient of slow people. I mean really, give me a break; I was only 10-years-old then.
Well guys, the house is peaceful and it is safe to re-enter the living room. Britt doesn't stay mad at her boys for long.
Thanks for passing the time with me.
Humbly yours,
Teresa
Umm, what should I write? What story do I tell? Oh! I know, our dear friend, Laura Trahan, suggested that I write about my Speed Skating days sometime. No time like the present, I always say.
My sister and I got the fever for Roller Skating back in 19...something or another. The rink fast became our second home. (I can still hear the music playing in my head….Disco, disco duck, and then there was Donna Summers', Toot –toot, hey, beep-beep.)
Any-who, what was I saying? Oh. We lived and breathed skating. Now, I'm not one to brag, but I was pretty darn good. In fact, so good that when I showed the guards that I was ready for the next level, they changed the rules. Actually, after seeing me, they decided no one could ever do it better and didn't want the other skaters to be envious so they cancelled the event until further notice. To this day, I marvel at such a gesture.
Bad girls, talkin' ‘bout the bad girls…
I was so shocked when I learned that that song was about….ladies of the night! O' my, no wonder my father didn't like me singing that song when I was a kid, but that's another story.
Bear with me; I'm stalling… the temperature in the living room is beginning to drop, but I need a little bit longer in this back room.
Tic-tock, tick-tock, tic-tock.
Alright-y then. Back to the story.
The rink was especially packed that night; Friday nights were always the busiest so it made perfect sense to show the on-lookers and the guards (Especially Joe), how great I was.
"Hey Joe, watch me, I'm so ready"
"Terees, now's not the best time, the floor is packed."
"No, really, I'm ready"
"Fine, show me what-cha got"
With all the excitement and speed I was able muster, I weaved in and out of the slow people. As I came back around toward Joe, the total-babe floor-guard, I jumped up in the air and spinned around so that I landed in the backward position and gracefully continued weaving in and out of the slow people…At least that's how I imagined it would go.
Well, as my great fortune would have it, that's not what happened. The truth is, as I was coming out of my spin, my toe-stop leaped off my skate and those slow people got in my….okay fine, I tripped, is that what you wanted to hear?
As I came down for my landing, I didn't position my feet properly, and I fell backward. I fell so hard that I hit my head, and I laid on the floor while all those slow people got a good look at me. I twisted my wrist and I couldn't get up.
Hey, what happened to the music?
Suddenly a voice from heaven (or maybe it was the DJ), asked everyone to clear the floor and several of the floor guards came over to help me up. Joe, the total-babe floor-guard, picked me up and carried me off the floor. I don't know why, but my sister was so mad at me! Now that I think about it, everyone was. That was the last time anyone was able to skate backwards for--I don't remember how long!
I still think my sister was just jealous because I was carried off the floor by Joe, the total-babe floor-guard.
The good news is, eventually backward skating was back on, I learned how to position my feet correctly, and speed was our middle name..
The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me...you renagade, you had it made...
As I think about all my ventures in choir, drama, dance and cheerleading--each with their own set of mishaps, I can't help but wonder if this little ball of talent will one day be rich and famous and it is God's way of keeping me humble.
Yeah, I'm sure that's it. I will take such pride in the fact that I will always remain a humble and grateful person. I'll even check in with my old friends on occasion.
Just so you know, I've even grown patient of slow people. I mean really, give me a break; I was only 10-years-old then.
Well guys, the house is peaceful and it is safe to re-enter the living room. Britt doesn't stay mad at her boys for long.
Thanks for passing the time with me.
Humbly yours,
Teresa
Roller Derby, Taco Bell, and Rumors
As we walked through the doors, we knew we were in another time and place, though not sure which one. Forget about Greek Mythology, there is no myth about it, for there she was right in front of me, the one and only--Medusa. The snakes in her hair left a lot to be desired, but rest assured it was she. The noise, that strange noise, in an instant it took control and our bodies began to move, the walk became a strut and every few seconds a streak of light flew right past us brightening the path.
Coming our way was King Andromeda. Cleary he was the Great-Great Grandson of Darth Vader, who exchanged the boring glow stick for a ray gun with flashing lights and noises designed to confuse and distract the enemy.
The crowd-they were a fine mix of Hippy, Goth, Cowboy, and the unusual, like me. Nevertheless, none of us felt out of place or unwelcomed. We were in a sense family-drawn together for a common purpose.
The Purpose?
To witness "The Track Town-Smack Down – Roller Derby Double Header". Put on by the Emerald City Roller Girls.
As we took our seats, the skaters were warming up. This arena was much different from that of the Thunder Birds from the late 70's-no ramped--rink with bars. Bummer, I don't get to see skaters pushed over the side of the bars. Instead, it was a flat surface with painted lines.
B-o-r-i-n-g.
Once the first bout was underway, I was happy to see that watching skaters slide across the floor and into the crowd was just as exciting as watching them fly over the bars!
Another one bites the dust… and another one's gone, and another one's gone…
"Go get her, Bullet Brains! No mercy--push her out of the way...Tuck your body, get your feet closer together.."
Oh, um, forgive me, just a little bit of my evil twin coming out. Scratch that from the record.
Watching these girls battle it out was so much fun and we plan to go back. This time with our war paint and suitable attire, no boring jeans and t-shirt for this roller derby fan.
However, this is not the real story I wanted to tell. I really just wanted to tell you about our trip after we left the derby.
My husband and daughter were hungry so we drove through Taco Bell.
"What should I get?" asks Art.
"Crunchy Tacos", I say.
"I'll take two bean and cheese burritos with no onions and five frenchy tacos please."
Brittany and I could not stop laughing. Art was so embarrassed! When the girl came back on the intercom, she was trying hard not to laugh. She asked him to repeat his order. He repeats the order and then adds:
"They are still laughing at me."
At this, she could not contain her laughter. We didn't think anything of it. That is until we pulled up to the window.
She explained to Art that she was laughing even harder because the customer who was at the window while Art said we were still laughing at him, thought he said something else. After a moment of prodding, she said that the customer made a strange face and said,
"Did he just ask you for a lap-dance please?"
Oh my Gosh! We couldn't believe it. I think she welcomed the break in what was turning out to be a long night for her.
Can you imagine?
"I'll take five frenchy tacos and a lap dance, please."
This is how rumors get started.
© Teresa Ortiz
Coming our way was King Andromeda. Cleary he was the Great-Great Grandson of Darth Vader, who exchanged the boring glow stick for a ray gun with flashing lights and noises designed to confuse and distract the enemy.
The crowd-they were a fine mix of Hippy, Goth, Cowboy, and the unusual, like me. Nevertheless, none of us felt out of place or unwelcomed. We were in a sense family-drawn together for a common purpose.
The Purpose?
To witness "The Track Town-Smack Down – Roller Derby Double Header". Put on by the Emerald City Roller Girls.
As we took our seats, the skaters were warming up. This arena was much different from that of the Thunder Birds from the late 70's-no ramped--rink with bars. Bummer, I don't get to see skaters pushed over the side of the bars. Instead, it was a flat surface with painted lines.
B-o-r-i-n-g.
Once the first bout was underway, I was happy to see that watching skaters slide across the floor and into the crowd was just as exciting as watching them fly over the bars!
Another one bites the dust… and another one's gone, and another one's gone…
"Go get her, Bullet Brains! No mercy--push her out of the way...Tuck your body, get your feet closer together.."
Oh, um, forgive me, just a little bit of my evil twin coming out. Scratch that from the record.
Watching these girls battle it out was so much fun and we plan to go back. This time with our war paint and suitable attire, no boring jeans and t-shirt for this roller derby fan.
However, this is not the real story I wanted to tell. I really just wanted to tell you about our trip after we left the derby.
My husband and daughter were hungry so we drove through Taco Bell.
"What should I get?" asks Art.
"Crunchy Tacos", I say.
"I'll take two bean and cheese burritos with no onions and five frenchy tacos please."
Brittany and I could not stop laughing. Art was so embarrassed! When the girl came back on the intercom, she was trying hard not to laugh. She asked him to repeat his order. He repeats the order and then adds:
"They are still laughing at me."
At this, she could not contain her laughter. We didn't think anything of it. That is until we pulled up to the window.
She explained to Art that she was laughing even harder because the customer who was at the window while Art said we were still laughing at him, thought he said something else. After a moment of prodding, she said that the customer made a strange face and said,
"Did he just ask you for a lap-dance please?"
Oh my Gosh! We couldn't believe it. I think she welcomed the break in what was turning out to be a long night for her.
Can you imagine?
"I'll take five frenchy tacos and a lap dance, please."
This is how rumors get started.
© Teresa Ortiz
The Lakers, Jack Nicholson and My Daughter: Is This Normal?
It's 7:30pm and for the next two and a half hours nothing else matters. Nobody speaks a word. After all, it's their time.
There she is standing in front of the screen. She says a prayer, wave's hello, and blows kisses and words of encouragement to her boys. She has her pillow close and her dog is forced to leave the room and chooses not to return until it is safe to do so.
My daughter is obsessed with the Lakers. She has been since she was in the forth grade when she started playing the game. She knows everything there is to know about them-from their individual families to their failures and successes. I suppose this is normal for a fan of any sort - right down to her Kobe Bryant Christmas tree ornament that she once had. You see, her dog ate it the first chance she had. Accident? I think not.
I have never seen someone get so much exercise while watching a basketball game! I get tired watching her. In fact, I think I get more entertainment watching her than I do the game…
She starts out calm, sitting on the couch, squeezing her pillow while her beloved dog-Roxie, sits next to her. Then it changes, She let's out the first scream, jumps off of the couch and throws Roxie across the room. I think to myself, here we go again…
"I love you honey," she says as she blows another kiss to the boys. By the way, don't tell her that they can't actually see or hear her - not if you want to live to see another day.
"Hi Jack, it's good to see you again!"
By the 2nd quarter, she has gone from the couch to the floor, to standing right in front of the T.V. to screaming into her pillow, to praying again. I wish I could say I am exaggerating, but I would be lying.
"Really Jack? Is that the best you can do? Trade me seats, I'll show you how to be a fan!"
There are many other things she says and does, but I wouldn't want to tarnish the sweet little couldn't hurt a fly - image of my baby girl.
It's now the 3rd quarter and she has been texting and calling everyone she knows to talk about this play and that play. She is talking so loud - screaming really, that you can't hear the announcers. However, it's okay, as long as she is doing the talking, the rest of us are free from the wrath of Brittany.
The 4th quarter begins and she cannot sit at all. She stands the entire time, waving her arms and taking the shots with them! If it is a close game, she will do jumping jacks and run in circles without stopping. By now, her throat is horse and it's difficult not to feel sorry for her. I mean wow; she has been through a lot! But there is the part of you that begins to pray that they win because if they lose, anyone in the same room with her is in danger. On the other hand, if they win, you could probably get away with asking her to do the laundry, wash the car and go grocery shopping and she would graciously oblige.
One of these days I have got to record her. I think if the team saw this girl in action, she would have a front row seat and to her, it would be Heaven on Earth.
So why am I sharing this with you? I am desperate and I know not where to turn.
My husband is beginning to show signs of this disease and I need to know; is this contagious?
More importantly, is this normal?
© Teresa Ortiz
There she is standing in front of the screen. She says a prayer, wave's hello, and blows kisses and words of encouragement to her boys. She has her pillow close and her dog is forced to leave the room and chooses not to return until it is safe to do so.
My daughter is obsessed with the Lakers. She has been since she was in the forth grade when she started playing the game. She knows everything there is to know about them-from their individual families to their failures and successes. I suppose this is normal for a fan of any sort - right down to her Kobe Bryant Christmas tree ornament that she once had. You see, her dog ate it the first chance she had. Accident? I think not.
I have never seen someone get so much exercise while watching a basketball game! I get tired watching her. In fact, I think I get more entertainment watching her than I do the game…
She starts out calm, sitting on the couch, squeezing her pillow while her beloved dog-Roxie, sits next to her. Then it changes, She let's out the first scream, jumps off of the couch and throws Roxie across the room. I think to myself, here we go again…
"I love you honey," she says as she blows another kiss to the boys. By the way, don't tell her that they can't actually see or hear her - not if you want to live to see another day.
"Hi Jack, it's good to see you again!"
By the 2nd quarter, she has gone from the couch to the floor, to standing right in front of the T.V. to screaming into her pillow, to praying again. I wish I could say I am exaggerating, but I would be lying.
"Really Jack? Is that the best you can do? Trade me seats, I'll show you how to be a fan!"
There are many other things she says and does, but I wouldn't want to tarnish the sweet little couldn't hurt a fly - image of my baby girl.
It's now the 3rd quarter and she has been texting and calling everyone she knows to talk about this play and that play. She is talking so loud - screaming really, that you can't hear the announcers. However, it's okay, as long as she is doing the talking, the rest of us are free from the wrath of Brittany.
The 4th quarter begins and she cannot sit at all. She stands the entire time, waving her arms and taking the shots with them! If it is a close game, she will do jumping jacks and run in circles without stopping. By now, her throat is horse and it's difficult not to feel sorry for her. I mean wow; she has been through a lot! But there is the part of you that begins to pray that they win because if they lose, anyone in the same room with her is in danger. On the other hand, if they win, you could probably get away with asking her to do the laundry, wash the car and go grocery shopping and she would graciously oblige.
One of these days I have got to record her. I think if the team saw this girl in action, she would have a front row seat and to her, it would be Heaven on Earth.
So why am I sharing this with you? I am desperate and I know not where to turn.
My husband is beginning to show signs of this disease and I need to know; is this contagious?
More importantly, is this normal?
© Teresa Ortiz
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