Sunday, September 14, 2008

I Make Sort-of-French-Bread

Seized by fit of domesticity, have achieved French bread ("not-exactly-baguettes") and something called Irish Car Bomb Cake, which deserves to be made for the name alone. Obviously, domesticity requiring copious use of Guinness as cake ingredient much preferable to the kind requiring moving all the furniture and scrubbing the corners.

Have been made aware of music ban; occurs to me that appropriate response would be re-working of "Rock the Casbah" with adjustment for correct religion. Am too lazy to attempt.

Husband just called from hospital (where - a reminder - he is a doctor, not a patient, and, B"H, doing fine). On being reminded that It is My Mother's Birthday, silence ensues, followed by cautious question: How Old is She? I reply, Sixty-Two; am sharply corrected by Mother that it is Sixty-One. Whereupon Husband proceeds to relate hair-raising tale of 59-year-old patient, whose last period was sometime in 1991, and who is now Pregnant following expensive and tortuous procedures involving hormone injections and other people's eggs, and now must be on Bedrest. As if above were not enough, Husband supplies that she had three pregnancy terminations previously; hanging on to last shred of hope, ask, On Purpose? Answer: yes. Husband concludes by saying He Feels like Hitting her every Time he Walks Past. Regret to find myself in sympathy with this highly unprofessional Attitude.

Reassure Husband that nothing of the sort will be forthcoming from Mother and hang up. Ensuing attempt to imagine arrival of young sibling boggles mind into incoherency. Restore shattered equanimity by resorting to remains of Irish Car Bomb Cake and new-ish Akunin novel brought by Father-in-Law.


Moshe said...


Leave the poor woman alone. It took her 59 years to finally grow up. ;-)

Dina said...

will e-mail

And, yeah, but sometimes you need to be able to tell when it's too late already, know what I mean?

Red Eyes said...

I'm glad I found this blog. I am currently reading one of your favourite books, master and margarita and liking it! Did you enjoy it?

Mikeinmidwood said...

Yeh Im thinking its too late. Why wait till now?

Anonymous said...

If you think about it, it's a good time. You don't get to see your kids screw up that much of their life, cause you'll probably be dead.

Dina said...

Yeah, and by that time, you probably have varicose veins anyway, so no worries there. Still, as a parent, I reluctantly acknowledge that procreation involves a certain amount of responsibility towards the sprog.