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Fruit Cakes

Happy Holidays from my MIL Ru

Dear Diary,

My MIL Ru (team dementia) typically has the best manners of anyone I know. She is kind to a fault, always waits to begin her meal until EVERYONE else is cued is SERVED and she never laughs at the wrong times..pffft. Like..THAT Marion. Who thought it was soooo funny when I spilled soup in Shirley’s hair. I was TRYING to help her eat.. MARION. She turned her HEAD for GAWDS sake. So.. (motioning to zip mouth). Anyway, I was completely taken aback by my MIL’S sudden change of demeanor (because that NEVER happens). I go bouncing up to the dementia floor and straight through the faux bookcase, full of vim, vigour and you know..other things which we don’t REALLY need to mention here. Only to come to a halt in front of a disgruntled MIL.

Jolly.. MUCH? I ask my pouting, MIL Ru as she stood smack dab in the middle of the nicely decorated hallway of the ROAM (Random Occasional Accidental Memory) floor. Granny was blocking traffic flow in both directions with her arms raised above her head holding some BOX and yelling, “WHO WANTS IT? Anyone? Going once..going twice..” To absolutely NO ONE.

“I don’t get it (this is news HOW?). I saw this clown come in and he had all these boxes to hand out and everything was going so well and.. BAM! He gives me THIS (showing me badly beaten up box). WTF?”

Uhhh. RU didn’t actually say WTF.. I did—as I looked down to more closely examine the damaged box of Premium Fruitcake (Premium? Snort) weighing like a freakin TON. You know what I think this was— A pathetic and INSENSITIVE dis to my MIL and HER PEOPLE from some bogus “CLOWN” with a hefty beer belly. So Santa.. what exactly are you inferring by handing out fruit and nut ANYTHING around here buster? Personally, I don’t even THINK those words or dare mention them in even the context of “CRISP” for fear of Blanche and Selma taking it wrong, getting all defensive and screaming, “So WHAT’S your BMI these days sweetie. Have you measured your GIRTH? Hey.. This is supposed to come with whip cream.”

Hard to believe that THIS woman waving her expensive new FRUITCAKE in the air, is the very same Ru who always remembers to say a polite PARDON ME to some WALKER before she gracefully trips over it. Then as she’s painstakingly pulling herself off the floor.. she’s only consumed with the WALKERS sustained injuries over her own. Who does that? My MIL THAT’S who. Disorientated, disheveled.. her hairdo amiss, she leans over to the vacated walker and is all, OMG. I’m so sorry..I didn’t SEE you there. ARE YOU OK? I’ve witnessed it gang, time and time again. That is why I’m SHOCKED that Ru has her granny panties in a twist when instead, she should be in her room furiously roughing out her THANK YOU note.

I might have  slipped and uttered that last thought out loud because the swinging box of confection started coming closer and closer to colliding with MY person.. as if it’s all MY fault she got a cake and not the black patent pair of Chanel’s she’s been dying for. Then Ru looks me straight in the eyes (well she THOUGHT it was me.. but shhhh) and says, “I hope you’re happy (Not happy.. Ecstatic. Bah.). THIS is the thanks I get for being a good customer here all these forty years. Now you’re going to have to go all the way to NORDSTROM and return it. I. Want. Shoes.”

Poor Lena’s staring into Ru’s eyes with fear and is all, “Well.. alright dear. But how do you suppose I’m to GET to NORDSTROM to get your shoes? Are you going to drive me or am I going to walk? In the mean time— I have some shoes I can g-i-v-e youuuuu.”

“Ruuuuu. I’m over here (waving).”

“What are you doing over THERE.. when I’m talking to you HERE?” (pointing finger in Lena’s face)

Uh oh. John.. dude— can you just duck a bit and try to finesse your chair through to the right of Ru..ummm hurry fast when the box is being swung to the LEFT? OK.. annnnd on my “GO”.. NOW JOHN. MOVE. EEEE GADS. Cripes. Ru you’re wayyyy too close for my comfort in smacking Selma in the face.

As I behold my typically mild mannered Ru, who is unequivocally irked beyond reason, I have to wonder why not a nice HOT WATER BOTTLE from Happy Daze administration? Everyone needs one of those. Maybe a cute pottery bowl.. for soaking dentures or leaving hearing aid’s or OTHER assorted paraphernalia. Who wouldn’t be THRILLED to get a bowl? Wouldn’t you think while all the SUITS were  sitting around brainstorming potential gifts for their dementia residents..someone might have stood up and said MAYBE the fruit cake idea should be back burnered. Wait a minute.. Ru. Look at what Jo’s doing with her gift..

“A flower holder. GENIUS. I see where you’re going with this Jojo. So now you add some water to saturate it, (dunking fruit cake in sink) goooood and shove the cake ewwww in a vase..and VOILA! I’d say THAT’S pretty impressive. Ever thought to go pro in floral arranging?”

“What are WE supposed to do with it? Do you know?” Numerous pairs of eyes look in my direction as if I possess the knowledge that can unleash the magic POWER of the secret red box. That’s when it hit me. Why not turn this into something.. enjoyable? Interactive. “Everybody.. why don’t ya head on over to Ru’s room, say around 5:00ish and remember to BRING the “BIRTHDAY gift” you just got. We’ll open them up and drop them out my window at passersby. K? THAT would be SO fun.”

I do HOPE the administration is not expecting a thank you note.

Bombs away.. Heads!


Copyright © 2009 My Sandwich Generation. All rights reserved.

Posted in Uncategorized 12 years, 8 months ago at 12:58 am.


2 Replies

  1. widdlydids Dec 22nd 2009

    Just once I would love and sit and read 1 of your whole Blog without having Lizards pushed in2 my face…right up very close! ‘Look at this Mummy look look!…Or a packet of chips..right up 2 my eyeballs…
    Never less it is still a wonderful read… full of laugher & delight..
    If I wish hard enough..1day all my dreams will come true..!