This story is a little longer than the last one and I'll probably get a few of the details wrong, but as I remember it, here's Switchback's contribution to my all-time favorite stories ever. (Not that there's only three---but that I'm currently telling three of my favorite all-time stories.)
Switchback grew up in California and when she was about 19, a friend of hers went to a health clinic and was given a huge bag full of condoms. The friend asked Switchback if she wanted them and Switchback said that she didn't have any use for them, but the friend accidentally left them in the trunk of Switchback's car.
Months later, Switchback had completely forgotten about the huge bag of condoms when her mother, Ruth, asked her to borrow her car. Ruth borrowed the car to go out of town. She found the bag of condoms before her trip and had several days away from home to think it over and think about how to talk to her daughter about her lifestyle.
Ruth returned on a Sunday, and Switchback and Ruth would often go for Sunday walks. So when Ruth invited Switchback to go for a walk with her, Switchback didn't think that it was anything out of the ordinary. As they walked, Ruth finally brought up what was on her mind.
"[Switchback]," she said, "I found what was in the trunk of your car."
Switchback, still forgetting about the condoms, assumed that her mother found her skanky spaghetti-strap tank tops that she would wear when she was away from her parents. She said, "Oh, Mom, I can totally explain about the clothes---"
Ruth said, "No. No, [Switchback], I'm not talking about the clothes. I'm talking about the large bag of condoms." She bravely continued. "You know, [Switchback], I was married at your age, and I know what kinds of urges and desires you can have, and I know that it can be really hard not to act on those. Now, I would have hoped that you had chosen otherwise, but I just want to make sure that if this is the decision you're going to make, you're being safe about it."
Finally Switchback spoke. She said, "Mom. Those aren't my condoms."
"They're not?"
"No. They were my friend's and she left them in my car."
"So I can take them away and you won't care."
"No! Of course I wouldn't care! I don't need them! But Mom, I have to say, you score major points on being a good, supportive, and understanding mother."
*******
A while later, Switchback decided to go on a mission. After her bishop's interview, Ruth called to see how things went. Switchback said, "Well... you know that whole raising the bar thing? The bishop and I discussed it and we've agreed that it's probably better that I wait a year and work some things out."
Ruth replied, "Okay! That's okay, [Switchback]! We can do this. You can come home and work here for a year, or you can finish up your schooling. That's good. You can get a lot done in a year!"
Switchback said, "Mom. I'm joking. The bishop says I'm good to go. But seriously, Mom, good job on mothering skills. I give you a ten!"
Ruth said, "I hate you."
*******
And I'm sure you can understand how I developed a healthy respect for Ruth while I was on my mission.
First of Three
Last weekend I had a very special opportunity to spend the evening with three close mission friends. As we were all together, I realized that these three friends had three of my All-Time Favorite Stories. They were stories that they told me on the mission that I have since repeated to others. Because we were all together, and because El Senor was with us, I asked them to please each tell their story to El Senor so that he could hear them straight from the source and so that I could enjoy the wonderful experience of hearing them told first-hand again. Over the next three days, I bring you three excellent stories.
Today's story is from Clat. When she was in junior high, she decided to start running on the treadmill after school. One day, as she was running, her older brother walked past and said, "Run, Tubby! Run!" Clat got off the treadmill and ran to the bathroom to cry. The older brother immediately went to the bathroom door, and said in a very concerned voice, "Whatsamatter, Chrissy? Did someone say something mean to you at school?"
Today's story is from Clat. When she was in junior high, she decided to start running on the treadmill after school. One day, as she was running, her older brother walked past and said, "Run, Tubby! Run!" Clat got off the treadmill and ran to the bathroom to cry. The older brother immediately went to the bathroom door, and said in a very concerned voice, "Whatsamatter, Chrissy? Did someone say something mean to you at school?"
Thanksgiving in a Hurry
I should have clued in to the fact that today was the Canadian thanksgiving when DP emailed me on Friday asking if my job gave me the Canadian thanksgiving off as a paid holiday. I didn't. But I did when he called me Sunday night to ask where in the Vally he'd be able to find a thawed turkey. The answer, of course, was nowhere; give up immediately. I did suggest that he go to the grocery store at 12:01 Monday morning, buy a bird, and thaw it in the bath tub (oh, how many times I've thawed my bird in the bath tub!) and I also suggested that he buy a chicken instead of a turkey. He invited me down to Provo to celebrate and what was really sweet was that when I fairly firmly stated that I would not, in fact, drive down to Provo for his thanksgiving feast, he nevertheless repeated the invitation just as firmly as he had the first time, with almost the same expectation that I would say, "Sure. See you there."
What was really going through my head was whether or not I could really afford to forgo tradition and let the Canadian thanksgiving slip by uncelebrated this year. I grew up in Canada and we were always diligent in celebrating both thanksgivings every year. It's a tradition that the brothers and I carried on here in Utah. But it snuck up this year, just like General Conference did (I mean, the Saturday sessions were in September for heaven's sake!).
As soon as I got off the phone with DP, I went to the living room where El Senor was still diligently working on the floor. I told him that Monday was thanksgiving.
"What should we do?" I asked. "Should we just go ahead and celebrate it? We could always get a little chicken. And some Stovetop dressing..."
And so it was resolved that we would celebrate thanksgiving the cheater's way. I called up the rest of the siblings to let them know that they could come to our house for thanksgiving.
Today I got off work at 4:30. I went to Walmart where I bought three rotisserie chickens, two boxes of Stovetop, beverages, paper cups and plates, potatoes, and pumpkin pie ingredients. I got home by about 5:45 and a whole thanksgiving feast was done by 6:45. I cooked while El Senor did the last touches on his floor. The Boy came before anyone else, and he was juggled between El Senor and me---fishing cables through walls and base boards one moment and mixing together pumpkin pie filling the next. But really, it has to be said again: We threw together a thanksgiving feast in one hour.
At the end of the night, when everyone was gone, El Senor thanked me for my work in putting together the meal today. I told him that it was certainly the fastest thanksgiving meal we've ever done and he said, "You know, it's a 500% improvement in time and only a 20% decrease in food quality..." No, we won't skimp on tradition in the future. But we'll always remember that in a pinch, thanksgiving can be done in an hour.
[Bath tub thaw in Rome, 2003]
What was really going through my head was whether or not I could really afford to forgo tradition and let the Canadian thanksgiving slip by uncelebrated this year. I grew up in Canada and we were always diligent in celebrating both thanksgivings every year. It's a tradition that the brothers and I carried on here in Utah. But it snuck up this year, just like General Conference did (I mean, the Saturday sessions were in September for heaven's sake!).
As soon as I got off the phone with DP, I went to the living room where El Senor was still diligently working on the floor. I told him that Monday was thanksgiving.
"What should we do?" I asked. "Should we just go ahead and celebrate it? We could always get a little chicken. And some Stovetop dressing..."
And so it was resolved that we would celebrate thanksgiving the cheater's way. I called up the rest of the siblings to let them know that they could come to our house for thanksgiving.
Today I got off work at 4:30. I went to Walmart where I bought three rotisserie chickens, two boxes of Stovetop, beverages, paper cups and plates, potatoes, and pumpkin pie ingredients. I got home by about 5:45 and a whole thanksgiving feast was done by 6:45. I cooked while El Senor did the last touches on his floor. The Boy came before anyone else, and he was juggled between El Senor and me---fishing cables through walls and base boards one moment and mixing together pumpkin pie filling the next. But really, it has to be said again: We threw together a thanksgiving feast in one hour.
At the end of the night, when everyone was gone, El Senor thanked me for my work in putting together the meal today. I told him that it was certainly the fastest thanksgiving meal we've ever done and he said, "You know, it's a 500% improvement in time and only a 20% decrease in food quality..." No, we won't skimp on tradition in the future. But we'll always remember that in a pinch, thanksgiving can be done in an hour.
[Bath tub thaw in Rome, 2003]Fat and Lazy
El Senor thinks that I'm a fat, lazy slob. He objects to how much I eat and he objects to how much time I spend watching the television and he also objects to the amount of time I spend on the computer. And what bugs me the most is that he chooses to communicate this to me passive-aggressively.
When we moved into this place, he told me that it was my responsibility to provide TiVo for the condo. Well, I found out that TiVo wasn't an option because we don't have a telephone line in the condo, but I did some research and found out all about Comcast's DVR. So I made the phone calls and yesterday the Comcast technician came over and set us all up. Digital cable. DVR. Comcast on Demand. It's all pretty sweet. So last night, I sat on our brand new couch (so long, futon!) and programmed in all the programs that I want the DVR to record repeatedly. Most notably was Cast Away, which I've been wanting to watch again for years, but always seem to forget when picking out a movie. It was airing tonight with limited commercial breaks (which means fewer times that I would have to fast forward the commercials) and I had everything set up to record it.
So what happens? Well, I drive home from work today, all excited about watching Cast Away and I walk into the house and notice a couple of odd things. First of all, there's no more TV and DVR in the living room. El Senor disconnected them and put them on the floor of my bedroom. You may not know this, but a disconnected DVR will not actually record Cast Away. It won't record Without a Trace. And I doubt that it will keep the recordings of Design on a Dime and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report that were already recorded on it.
My computer was not in the living room where I usually leave it. It was in El Senor's room. It's not like he was using it, either. He was just keeping it away from me. He has his own freaking computer.
If you think that's bad, though, just wait to find out what comes next. He put the couch (which he knows is too heavy for me to move by myself) in the kitchen. It takes up all the room of the kitchen, so I have no access to the refrigerator, cupboards, dishes, pantry---anything. He's cut off all access to food.
He also put the dining room table and chairs in my bedroom, like just to rub salt in an open wound: "Ha. You can't eat food, and you can't even sit at the dining room table and think about eating food."
My room is now crowded with furniture and a useless television and DVR. Of course I stole my computer back when he wasn't paying attention, but seriously! I am starting to think that maybe living with him wasn't such a good idea.
Oh, so you want his side of the story?? Like that's important? Well, according to him, it's necessary to move everything out of the living room and dining room in order to install his hardwood floor this weekend. Of all the lame, transparent excuses. I suggest that a cheaper solution next time will just be to confront me about my television, computer, and eating habits instead of inventing reasons to block my access to my vices.
This is a picture of the floor that he's "installing."
This is a picture of my bedroom that he's shoved things into.
This is a picture of the impossible kitchen. What I wouldn't give for a nice warm cup of hot chocolate right now... Did I mention that to further deprive me of comfort, he left the doors open all day long today? Hmph.
When we moved into this place, he told me that it was my responsibility to provide TiVo for the condo. Well, I found out that TiVo wasn't an option because we don't have a telephone line in the condo, but I did some research and found out all about Comcast's DVR. So I made the phone calls and yesterday the Comcast technician came over and set us all up. Digital cable. DVR. Comcast on Demand. It's all pretty sweet. So last night, I sat on our brand new couch (so long, futon!) and programmed in all the programs that I want the DVR to record repeatedly. Most notably was Cast Away, which I've been wanting to watch again for years, but always seem to forget when picking out a movie. It was airing tonight with limited commercial breaks (which means fewer times that I would have to fast forward the commercials) and I had everything set up to record it.
So what happens? Well, I drive home from work today, all excited about watching Cast Away and I walk into the house and notice a couple of odd things. First of all, there's no more TV and DVR in the living room. El Senor disconnected them and put them on the floor of my bedroom. You may not know this, but a disconnected DVR will not actually record Cast Away. It won't record Without a Trace. And I doubt that it will keep the recordings of Design on a Dime and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report that were already recorded on it.
My computer was not in the living room where I usually leave it. It was in El Senor's room. It's not like he was using it, either. He was just keeping it away from me. He has his own freaking computer.
If you think that's bad, though, just wait to find out what comes next. He put the couch (which he knows is too heavy for me to move by myself) in the kitchen. It takes up all the room of the kitchen, so I have no access to the refrigerator, cupboards, dishes, pantry---anything. He's cut off all access to food.
He also put the dining room table and chairs in my bedroom, like just to rub salt in an open wound: "Ha. You can't eat food, and you can't even sit at the dining room table and think about eating food."
My room is now crowded with furniture and a useless television and DVR. Of course I stole my computer back when he wasn't paying attention, but seriously! I am starting to think that maybe living with him wasn't such a good idea.
Oh, so you want his side of the story?? Like that's important? Well, according to him, it's necessary to move everything out of the living room and dining room in order to install his hardwood floor this weekend. Of all the lame, transparent excuses. I suggest that a cheaper solution next time will just be to confront me about my television, computer, and eating habits instead of inventing reasons to block my access to my vices.
This is a picture of the floor that he's "installing."
This is a picture of my bedroom that he's shoved things into.
This is a picture of the impossible kitchen. What I wouldn't give for a nice warm cup of hot chocolate right now... Did I mention that to further deprive me of comfort, he left the doors open all day long today? Hmph.
What's Been Keeping Me Busy
- Discovering new television shows.
- Getting a DVR so that I can discover even more television shows and I can record them all to watch at my convenience.
- Watching television shows on ABC.com to catch the episodes that aired before I got my DVR set up.
- Going out to dinner with The Boy to celebrate his helping me understand how my new DVR and digital cable work.
As you can see, I've been very busy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to watch Ugly Betty.
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