basket case

We stayed out late on Friday night, and had to get up so early on Saturday, and then Saturday was very busy and we stayed up late, and so Sunday, I slept in, hard. E was up hours before me, which does not ever happen. He is usually up until four in the morning because he might miss something and that would be so terrible. Then, he sleeps until mid afternoon, while I am, personally, up at the crack of dawn and have been doing chores and being productive for just hours on end, waiting for him to get his lazy carcass the hell out of bed and contribute to society.  Possibly that is not entirely true.

I really am usually up before him, though. Sunday morning, he had bounced out of bed, got bored with waiting for me to wake up, and came back into the bedroom. It’s time to get up, he announced. Let’s do fun things! You want to wake up and do something fun? You don’t want to lie in bed all morning. Let’s just get you out of bed, here. Are you just going to lie there? Are you grumpy? Are you too grumpy to get out of bed? You want to come hang out with me? And I responded with grunts, generally, and I may have growled, and if I had had the energy, I would probably have taken a swipe at him. Finally, he said, I really think you should get up. And see your Easter basket. And then he laughed at me for ten minutes when my eyes popped open and I leapt out of bed.



Easter! A basket! A basket for Easter! Mine was pink, and had a pony. E’s was green, and did not have a pony, so I win. J. is wonderful, and made them for everyone in the house, because he is like that. We loved him for awhile, and then, I had candy for breakfast, and I was very, very happy until my stomach announced that it did not appreciate candy for breakfast, no not one bit. Which did not stop me from eating candy the whole rest of the day, except for when I was eating prosciutto-wrapped asparagus and lamb with mint sauce, as if it were really a holiday dinner. I felt very festive, and I missed my mother very much, because it has been a really long time, so long, since we had a family holiday dinner kind of thing, and that made me sad.

Then I got sad because it’s been so long since I’ve talked to my brother, and we keep missing each other on the phone and get each other’s voicemail and leave cranky messages for each other -“GOD why don’t you EVER pick up the PHONE?” and I want to so much to talk to him even though I have this huge, insane weird phobia about the phone, and talking on it, and being unable to have a conversation and call people or have them call me and it is a very inconvenient phobia that makes navigating this modern world terribly difficult, with the way that I get made fun of for being such a freak. And then I got sad because I am such a freak. And then, I was just sad.

But there was candy all day, and that fills the hole in my heart, which is very convenient and generally a low-cost option. Candy, a pony, and going to bed early, with a stomach full of candy, and knowing I have a pony named Claude Von Clopperson II, and someone who knows that waking me up before noon on a Sunday is always okay if there’s candy involved.

3 Replies to “basket case”

  1. Aw, I love E, and his whole circle of family and friends who have embraced you, and I love you, and your longing for your family and your eerie (because it mirrors my own) phone phobia. Happy Easter! Hooray for candy and ponies!!

  2. OMG. I have the same phone phobia! And so does my friend Melissa Lion who, coincidentally, is also a writer.

    It must just be a writer thing. Like drinking excessively.

  3. I have phone phobia too! And so does my sweet hubby! And we’re both writers, so I agree: it must be a writer thing. But it sure does make it hard to ever coordinate anything with other people since we’re constantly either refusing to answer the phone, or explaining to people why it’s been so hard to get us to talk to them.

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