7/09/2008

What's yours is mine

My brother recounted some funny snippets to me the other day involving our dear Aunt Florence. Having only been able to share them with The Dude thus far, I thought I'd air them here. I know none of you have ever met The Crazy (though Molly's visit last year meant she missed her by sheer days), but hopefully you'll find this funny anyway.

I've summarised my Aunt's personality a bit before. She lives in a trailer with a handful of cats, is on disability, and her shopping mecca is the Salvation Army. I know, I know, good for her being frugal, right? Fair enough, but I am rather tired of hearing, "Well Pru, I'm afraid I won't be able to get you much for your birthday this year, because I have no money", her mantra for the past 20 birthdays at least. Never in my nearly 30 years have I indicated that I expected anything, let alone a magnificent and expensive gift.

My brother says that recently Aunt F. has been slowly trying to take over my Mom's belongings. Upon spying a small stone rabbit key-hiding apparatus in my Mom's living room (yeah, I don't know why it's not actually outside either), Aunt F. asked where my Mom got it. Mom said it was a gift from a friend, which prompted my Aunt to say, "Hmph. I wish I had friends like that." I echo her sentiments - I've always lamented the fact that of my three whole friends, no one has ever thought to buy me anything even resembling a key-hiding garden ornament. What a bunch of tight bastards!

A couple of hours after the key-hiding lust episode, my Aunt spied some random antique trinket my Mom picked up at an auction. Lacking any hint of subtlety, my Aunt picked it up and said, "I like this. Can I have it?" My Mom, bewildered, figured that it was easier to just let her have it then perhaps point out that this wasn't a Salvation Army donation centre.

It seems she has a habit of fixating on certain items and magically acquiring them. My Mom was involved in dog fostering for awhile, and had a few terriers which were abused and ill-treated by previous owners. Part of her job was to gradually socialise them and make the dogs comfortable with people again before they were to be adopted. My Aunt took a shine to one of them and said to my Mom, "She's so cute. Can I have her?" My Mom laughed, believing it all to be a joke. My aunt's reply? - "No. I'm serious. I want to take her." Thankfully for everyone involved my Mom ensured that my Aunt left the dog. My Aunt loves P but of course doesn't see her very often, so I'm just waiting for that inevitable conversation: "P is adorable! Can I have her? No, I'm totally serious."

Completely apropos of nothing, I just thought I'd spread the good word to anyone who doesn't read my Twittering - I got my fat ass up and out of the house and went running tonight! I was up with P from 2-3am last night, I had a frantic and suckassy day, the kid didn't get to bed until 8pm, and STILL I laced up my aging running shoes and ran like a motherfucker. Ok, in fact I only started the Couch to 5K programme today, but it's a start, right? Right? I'm trying to ignore the fact that back in the day I ran track, cross country, and played competitive soccer year round, and now I'm doing a run/brisk walk combo for a mere 20 minutes. Oh, how the athletically mighty have fallen.

However, if I want to be like this sexy fine girl again, I have to do what I have to do.



Ok, I was like, 14 there, and I don't want to have the body of a 14 year old girl. Also, seriously, what the fuck was up with me back then? America's Next Top Model wasn't on for another 10 years, so what that posting was about I have no idea.

11 comments:

Aunt Becky said...

I've always wanted a daughter. Can I have yours?

Heather said...

I broke an elliptical trainer at the gym last night; I don't think it was because I was going too fast.

Your aunt sounds lovely. Perhaps she should be introduced to the lovely next door neighbors?

I think I owned that outfit somewhere in the nineties.

Betty M said...

I've started struggling up the 10 floors worth of stairs to my office in the mornings but there has been no discernible improvement to my thighs as yet. No chance of a 5k here. I wish you better luck.

anita said...

I had to laugh at your supermodel pose Pru because I did the same damn thing as a kid. Why? Why would we do such a thing?

elizasmom said...

Ha. Your aunt is cracking me up. Her acquisitional instincts remind of my kid, who has squirreled away all sorts of random things like old running medals and Chinese exercise balls in her toy chest.

And good luck on the running!

PiquantMolly said...

OMG, that picture is priceless. If only because now I have something to make fun of your brother for the next time I see him.

Pose: hott.

And, and I like your flat ass. Can I take it? No, I'm serious.

DD said...

I didn't know you wore glasses...

B.Mare said...

Mmm, nice tights. It is very America circa early nineties. I am desperate to know what you had on your feet...?

kate said...

Oh, dear. I have one of those pictures, with a very similar pose, with my little brother. Only I had the audacity to wear a oh-so-80s style hat in addition. Lovely.

And yeah. I like your kid. Can I have her?

kate said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
kate said...

Edited, just so I can bump your comment count higher (and so I can mask my idiotic writing).

Ah, shit. I also meant to say, BAD ASS! Good for you for getting up, putting the shoes on and giving it a go.

I know that pathetic-first-workout feeling oh-so-well. Post surgery, I was a lumpy mess. And even though I was a smoker with recurrent pleurisy and exercise induced asthma BEFORE the surgery, I could still run at will. After was a hot mess.

So, yeah. I felt like the biggest pathetic lump-turd doing that first workout. But that ended pretty quickly.

Of course, that feeling is back now that it's week 8 and I'm still doing week 3-4 level workouts because of the stupid lungs, but s'okay. It'll work itself out, assuredly.