What Did Your Last Servant Die Of?So, as it always happens when I go upstate to visit my mother, she ambushes me with some very unfun task that I need to do for her. These entreaties, delivered with equal parts gravitas and chardonnay, begin thus: "You know what you could do for me?" They are often delivered just as I am packing up my things to go and have stuck my key in the ignition. They've ranged in the past from mounting bookshelves to hosing down all the patio furniture (a pointless effort, as my mother does not have a patio, but you never know, do you) to mowing the lawn (which I always refuse on the grounds that I do not know how; my father never let me near the lawnmower as a kid and I've never lived anyplace that has grass and besides, her lawnmower is dangerous--how many more fingers can our family afford to lose?) to, in this instance, cleaning out the gutters. This time, however, she didn't wait until I'd gotten into my car; rather, she waited until I had cleaned every last Thanksgiving pot and dish, even using all 17 of her specially crafted dishwashing utensils (the topic of which I can't get into). "You know what you could do for me," she asked as I finished cauterizing my hands in the 280 degree dishwater. "You mean, what I could do for you IN ADDITION TO all of this that I've just done?" I gestured dramatically to the stacks of clean dishes. (I am an ungrateful daughter.) "The gutters. There's a ladder outside. Use rubber gloves." So, I've never cleaned out gutters before but can I just say? that the stuff inside gutters is really cold and really slimy. At least I managed to partially conquer my fear of (relatively small) heights. N held the ladder for me. (He too was a trooper this weekend, as my mother repeatedly attempted to infect him with airborne viruses, constantly hugging him and coughing repeatedly into his face.) And also there are weird organisms in the gutters. Oh brave new world that has such people in it! Also this weekend I managed to conquer my fear of losing (relatively small amounts of) money. Yes: I've learned how to play poker.
Posted by Dana at 10:37 AM
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My mother can't open e-mail attachments. So twice a year when I visit, I have to go through her AOL in-box ans show her the dozens of pictures of her friends' knee replacements and their grandchildren. And Chippendales. She seems to get a lot of beefcake, does Mom.
Talk about organisms! Yeeech.
Posted by: tizzie at November 29, 2004 02:09 PMPoker? I am in.
Posted by: SECRETARIAT OF THE GREAT LEADER at November 30, 2004 08:40 AMThe best part about cleaning gutters is when you accidentally reach into a cluster of slugs with your bare hands. I love living in the suburbs.
Posted by: j-go at November 30, 2004 11:50 AM