My husband and the kids were at Dumont, camping a few years ago. We go every year for Thanksgiving.
I had to work the day after Thanksgiving that particular year, and he wanted to leave ON Thanksgiving to get everything set up and ready.
Plus that way the kids (my little ones, the teenagers stayed behind with me) could travel during the day, get there early, and start their vacation as early as possible.
My sister The Raven, along with my bro in law and nephew were to drive up the next day. I was to mooch a ride off them. It worked out.
Soooooooo since I had no kids or hubby to make dinner for that night, Goocher, Woofs, Suggaaa and The Raven and I made plans to hang out Wednesday night. We figure we’ll have dinner at Fish Lips, then watch our favorite band perform.
A few Heffenweisens later I have to go to the little girls room. And that’s when it happens. My cell phone rings, which I KNOW, I know… why would I take my cell phone to the rest room.
Well, let me tell you why. It’s so that just in case my teens called and they need to be picked up from the police station, or they are stranded at a party they shouldn’t have been at to begin with, or the house is on fire, or something else uber ridiculous like that.
YEAH, I’m that paranoid.
Anyways, it turned out it wasn’t anything like that.
Nope, it’s my honey, calling me from a cell phone I don’t recognize.
He says, “garble garble garble…. something something something”
“something else I can’t hear or understand”
WHAT? I can’t hear youuuuuuuuu……
“WHERE ARE YOU AT? WHY IS IT SO LOUD?”
I’m at Fish Lips, I’m here with my sister, The Raven.
He says joking something like “oh, is that what we’re calling ‘him’ now?”
HU? I can’t hear youuuuuuuuuuuuuu….
“Well listen, I just called to say I love you and miss you and when you come up can you bring the bloody mary mix?”
WHAT? I can’t hear youuuuuuuuu
“Are you drunk?”
No, I just can’t hear you it’s loud in here.
“THE BLOODY MARY MIX. CAN YOU PLEASE BRING THE BLOODY MARY MIX”
oh, the bloody mary mix. Ok, yeah, I’ll bring it.
“Are you gonna forget? I know how forgetful you are.”
Nooooooooooooooo I’m not gonna forget! The bloody mary mix, yeah, I’ll bring it. Ok?
“Please don’t forget. As a matter of fact, put your sister on the phone.”
She’s not here with me. She’s sitting at the table.
“Ok, fine, but don’t forget ok? THE BLOODY MARY MIX. Don’t’ forget the bloody mary mix.”
YES OK OK OK I know… the bloody mary mix. I gotta go. I love you! Bye.
It’s called Demitris and you have to order it online around here. Nobody sells it. So this bloody mary mix is like GOLD.
I hang up, wash my hands, go back to the table. Meanwhile I’m repeating to myself “don’t forget the bloody mary mix. the bloody mary mix, don’t forget. bloody mary, bloody mary.
I tell The Raven and Goocher about the phone call and how I was sooo busted and how I couldn’t hear him, etc. They have a good laugh then say, “So what did he want?”
I say, “He wanted me to bring something tomorrow. Oh shit. I just forgot what he wanted. I think it was his toothbrush. I think he said ‘don’t forget to bring my toothbrush.’ No, wait. his pillow? I think he said don’t forget my pillow. Or was it bread? No! Maybe he forgot his socks???? Damn… shit. I forgot what he wanted. Shit.”
I go home, pack his toothbrush, his pillow, some socks. We make the long drive to Dumont the next day and when we get there I proudly tell him, “here babe! I brought your toothbrush, pillow, socks. And the bread.
He thanks me and then says, “But did you bring the bloody mary mix?”
Damn. I forgot the bloody mary mix.