Tale #1:
Reports of my deafness are greatly
exaggerated.
Hubby and I attended the Prairie
Players’ hilarious production of Neil Simon’s Rumors at the William Glesby Centre last week, and to get to our
seats we needed to squeeze past three already-seated audience members. I didn’t
recognize them, but they apparently recognized me—which is a little
disconcerting when you consider it was my backside in their faces as I
excuse-me’d all the way across their knees.
After we were seated, these ladies began
trying to tell me something but with my husband in the seat between us and
numerous other conversations around me, I couldn’t tell what they were saying. Their
nods and smiles gave me a vague hunch their words might be complimentary and
that I should say “thanks.” But what if I was wrong and they were merely
pointing out the spinach in my teeth? Or my shirt was on inside-out? Or I was
dragging toilet paper from my shoe? I
nodded and smiled back. Better to say nothing and be thought a fool than open
my mouth and remove all doubt.
“They’re saying they read your
column all the time,” Hubby finally interpreted. “They never miss it.”
“Oh. Thank you!” I said. “I’m a
little deaf.”
“Oh? You sure can’t tell it from
your column,” one of them assured me. At least that’s what I think she said.
This is how rumours get started,
folks. Although, what better place to start one than at a play by the same
name? But since I’m the one who sparked it, I figure I should be the one to douse it. You saw it here, readers: I’m not deaf. A little selectively
hard-of-hearing, maybe, but that’s another topic.
I hear well enough to know that the
Prairie Players cleaned up the language in Simon’s original script (greatly
appreciated) and that they danced like crazy people to La Bamba (my favorite
part of the show!) Thanks for a great night, everyone! Enjoy having your lives
back.
Tale #2:
Two days later, my daughter-in-law,
my sister, my niece, and I enjoyed Habitat for Humanity's Homes for the Holidays together. Before the
tour, we grabbed a quick lunch at my house. There we were, four grown women
enjoying a cozy, adult lunch. The Niece and The Daughter-in-law were discussing
what a treat it was to enjoy an afternoon away from their young children.
Suddenly, The Niece knocked over her water glass, soaking her mother’s pants,
socks, and chair.
“Sheesh. Wish I could get away
somewhere without MY kids,” her drenched mother wise-cracked.
(Clearly, I’m not the only bratty
sister in this family.)
We were all a little damp by the
time our tour of the five homes was complete, given the drizzles that ushered
in winter later that day. Nevertheless, we had a lovely time looking at lovely
things and lovely homes. I returned to my own eager to start decorating for
Christmas.
Many thanks to the army of volunteers
who made this event happen—all the decorators, the hostesses, the sponsors, and
those who offered their houses. Great job for a great cause! God bless you.
