"Mike, let's go bye-bye" it's day 3 of mike d being with us, I love waking up and sleeping with the angel, getting him to sleep is the challenge. We have learned that driving is the trick. Lately it's bayshore, we drive up one time and he is snoring.
As we prep him to get in the car he takes off to my bedroom, looking for his grandma, he doesn't want to drive tonight, missing his wela wany. I call her phone again, the sixth time, no answer.
No idea where she is, last I heard she was going to church. We get him in the car and twenty minutes later arrive with a sleeping infant.
This morning at ten-ish, my husband calls me, "Guess why my mom didn't answer the phone."
Oh god she is probably in jail, or dui, my head spinning, "Do you really want me to guess?"
"She lost her phone."
"And pray tell, where?"
"The casino."
"Ah, so she was at the House of Seminole."
"Yes, she was, need I remind you how much that phone cost."
"No, no need."
I can hear them arguing. He hangs up, this is the fourth phone she has lost, or destroyed, I have been supplying her phones and it's like giving a cell phone to a nine year old, they have no clue how to use it, they just push the numbers, make the calls, and forget to take care of the thing.
Now we need to figure out how to fix this dilemma, we will be away for almost a week and I am not comfortable leaving her with no phone, nor will I leave her with a droid, no.
I guess someone hit it big at the casino, the phone was new, maybe a month old. I could see her now, among 6 ogre like men all with sunglasses and the poker face, and my mother in law in the middle, a third their size and bluffing her ass off with the rose tinted granny-wear.
Maybe someone will turn it in, but I have more luck getting hit by a drunk little korean woman.
Far more plausible.
***dammit woman***
I wear heels to work now, I hate to wear heels, flip flops should be allowed in Florida for God's sake, it's a hundred degrees outside on any given day in the summer. My heels have made a hole in the floor of the driver's side in my little yaris, and I can now see a metal piece saying "hello" when I look down. The heels now come off when I get into my little speed wagon, I toss them on the passenger side and zoom away. I drive a stick shift, I think it is also known as a five speed, but I never understood that term.
Huge shout out to my husband for cleaning the house, he is doing everything in his power to make sure I have all the time in the world to prepare for our trip to Orlando, my very first writing convention, it's surreal to me.
I hop out of the car, heels in hand and prance to the mailbox, picking up about five collection notices and other various offers to owe more money, I do the stingray shuffle through the dirt, just for shits and giggles, then I remember the slaving done to the house, if I walk in with these feet I am sure to suffer.
The door bursts open and my mother in law is enraged, I could tell because I almost couldn't see the whites of her eyes. "Diego is not here, I looked everywhere."
"That is because he went out with Tito."
"Mira, they tell me nothing. I look in the closet, the bathroom, the cabinets, I thought he play hide and seek, I drag Miko out in backyard, the laundry room, he tell me nothing." After that she turns around and her syllables start to bunch up into a sing song of blunder, and she suddenly resembles an outcast member of the Zulu tribe. I watch her go off and forget the dirt between my toes.
I call up the boys, my eldest immediately offended, Diego is apologetic, neither realizing how upset she was at not being informed.
I hang up and stare the my mother in law and mike d arguing over the tv, wishing I could send her to her room, her flat screen, her korean channels, she sits and watches. Juno runs past me barking at the door, my mother shows up. She has decided it's time to take mike d for a ride, she sits on the sofa and gossips, in low voice, I don't want to know what the whispers are over.
I go to my bedroom to clean up splattered cereal on my bedroom furniture. She hops in bed and stares at me.
"Who sleeps here?"
Harmless question, I answer, "Lately it's me, Miguel, Diego, mike d, and Juno."
"Oh good, you are getting Miguel used to humans and animals. He keeps threatening to move and I won't see him for five years, he must be moving into a forest."
I don't know if she had that answer planned out.
"Whose effervescent is in the kitchen."
"Wany's, she let mike play with the box and I woke up to effervescent in my bed, sweet of her."
"I am taking it, and I need to get some steak knives from that place. The steakhouse. We don't have but a couple."
I wipe away and wonder how she gets away with it, each time she goes out to dinner, she takes different souveniers from different restaurants, when there is a dinner, the steak knives come out like some old handed down china. This is common knowledge in the family, there are a number of members to this underground club they have going on.
"Take the effervescent, I don't care, she doesn't know she has it. Why do you need it?"
"Cleaning stuff."
I think of her clip on tooth and not wanting to touch the wrong nerve, let it go.
She grabs mike d and looks into his ears, like chimpanzees removing fleas. "Ay yuck, are you a homeless?" she asks him.
"Yes." He says and runs around in circles.
"You could plant corn in his ears, clean his ears."
"Look woman, stop cleaning things. The doctor made it very clear not to dig in his ears, his ears are washed, DO NOT shove any qtips or bobby pins in his ears, he moves around too much."
She hisses at me like a snake. "Ok, let's go."
She stands up and mike d is yanking at her signature spandex shorts, I try to hold him to no avail, he is relentless, he grabs her purse and holds on, she walks out and he waits at the door.
I walk out and he avoids me, I watch her open the door, my mother in law close behind me. He doesn't look at either of us. She shuts the door and my 2 year old sits in the car seat ready to go.
My mom sits at the wheel and starts the car. "Wait, his seatbelt." mother in law yells.
"Oh yeah, he can't ride without being strapped in. You were supposed to do that."
Even though he is only going 3 blocks away, my mom fails to realize the need for this, I open door and strap him in. She backs off almost hitting a jogger, my jaw clenches, between the both of them, I am sure the cigarettes are the least of my worries, if anything, they keep me sane, and them alive.
From the street I see the little hand stretched out and waving and the unmistaken "Buh bye."
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