From now on, I am no longer going to place myself in those situations that are unhealthy and unwise. This may mean the end of The Fourth Avenue Blues as you know it. I am going to concentrate on stories of my interactions with my family and my healthy friends. I will still write about Sherman occasionally as he seems to be an inescapable part of my life these days, but I will no longer seek him out. I think that shall be best for my sobriety. I had over 1300 visits yesterday and very few comments so maybe these stories about the gang and my interactions with them are not as interesting or popular as I thought. I will just have to write about more mundane aspects of my life in a creative and interesting way.
I will leave you all from a story yesterday about a little interaction with my mother from yesterday afternoon:
Flea Treatment with the Obsessive Compulsive Applicator
I had to wait several days after Maggie’s latest flea bath before applying her monthly frontline flea treatment (Yes, I broke down and bought the excessively expensive stuff). My mother wanted to come over and make sure I applied it right. I had a little “puppy starter kit” that had the first month’s heartworm and flea treatment. Mom had applied this frontline stuff many times on our former dog, Mick. My parents had Mick for over 14 years until my mother shut the garage door on him and killed him. My mother has often accidentally been the early demise of many of our pets from garage door deaths to accidental run-overs with the car. My father sometimes morbidly calls her the “Pet Black Plaque.”
Mom came driving up in the driveway and knocked on the door. I let her in. She insisted on applying the flea treatment the first time. She struggled with the package for what seemed like 30 minutes before finally getting it open and ready for application. I patiently waited to the side and watched as this unfolded. I knew this would prove interesting.
“I can’t bend over so get in a chair and put Maggie in your lap so I can put this on,” Mom said.
Well, I sat down and got Maggie in my lap. Maggie thought this was the best thing in the world and was awesome attention. She started to wiggle vigorously and was exuberantly licking my face. I couldn’t help but get tickled and started to laugh.
“Andrew, be serious and hold her still so we can put this on,” Mom replied.
“I can’t help it!” I protested as I laughed so hard my belly hurt.
Maggie continued to wiggle vigorously and licked my face and neck. My mother, who is very serious and has a one track mind, was getting very outdone with us. I finally got Maggie to sit relatively still. My mother held her neck and with shaky hands, applied the flea treatment.
“Did I get it all?” She asked me as she held the little applicator up into the light.
“I can’t tell.” She said handing it to me.
I looked at it and said, “Mom, there is none left.” So I went and threw it in the trash.
You have to understand that my mother is very obsessive compulsive along with being schizophrenic. Things then grew even more complicated. Mom got in her car to go home and I watched as she pulled out of the driveway. I thought all was said and done. I went back to fiddling with my computer as Maggie went back to playing with her little stuffed hedgehog I had given her the other day. Soon, there was a knock on the door again. I got up and opened it.
“What’s wrong mom?” I asked.
“I don’t think we applied it all,” Mom said with a worried look on her face.
“Mom, there was none left in the package,” I protested knowing this was going to get out of hand quickly. “You go on home.”
“Get the applicator out of the trash,” She said as if she wasn’t going to leave me alone until I complied.
I dug around in the trash almost fruitlessly trying to find that little blue applicator. After dirty hands covered with yesterday’s leftover meatballs and spaghetti, I found it. Mom held it up to the light in my kitchen.
“Well, I think we got it all,” She said. “You look at it.”
I held it up to the light once more just to placate her and said, “Yes, mother, we got it all. You can head on home.”
Mom left to go home and within minutes my phone rang.
“Jesus Christ!” I muttered as I walked to the phone to answer it. “Hello?”
“You sure we got it all on?” Mom asked.
“Jesus mom, YES!” I emphatically exclaimed. “You are driving me crazy.”
“Well, I just want to make sure so she doesn’t have fleas,” She replied.
I told mom good bye and then hung up the phone. Sure enough, this was not the end of this whole ordeal. Mom once again drove over and I once again had to dig that applicator out of the trash. This time, I held up upside down and squeezed it as hard as I could to show mom that nothing came out. Mom finally was satisfied that we had applied it all.
Well, later in the evening, I went over to my parent’s house to get my nightly Librium. I told dad the story about today and he just loved it. He has to deal with this kind of shit from mom all the time. He loved it that I got caught into what he has to deal with on a daily basis.
“That’s your mother!” He said as he laughed.
“Ya’ll don’t laugh at me,” Mom said lying on the couch. “I can’t help it.”
Mom finally got to laughing as well.
“That’s were your brother gets it from,” Dad said.
My brother has been known to be obsessive compulsive and will wash his hands ten times after seeing a patient being a physician.
“Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about Maggie ever having fleas again,” Dad said. “Martha will make damn sure that dog’s got every last drop of flea treatment on.”
We all laughed and laughed and had a good time good-naturedly picking on mom. I finally walked on home with a smile on my face. The only drawback from yesterday is now the fleas have decided that Maggie is not a suitable home and my legs are prime habitat. OUCH!
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