We're walking through the park at an impressive clip.
Tata: Okay okay okay, so the other day, I said, "Pete, I'd like a bread machine for my birthday and he said, "That's good. I just ordered you one."
Leilani: It's your birthday?
Tata: It's in a couple of weeks, but I'm like a crazy planner. Yesterday, it arrived, hooray!
Tata: By midnight, we'd already had two disastrous doughs and this morning, I tore the one we baked into bird-size hunks. Of course, I left them at home. Sorry, geese!
Leilani: Why are we here?
Tata: Two years ago, my dad got sick and I went to Virginia for a month. I blogged about it the whole time and I know it was sometimes very hard for readers to deal with how awful it was, and how funny. I mean, picture saying to people, "Please read about my dad's hilarious death."
Leilani: Omigod, how did you know? Yesterday, we went to see the rabbi and everyone talked at the same time. I can't imagine what people walking by thought, with the sobbing and roaring laughter.
Tata: What did you do last night?
Leilani: My friend Ranit came over. We went to Charlie Brown's and it was really nice. Quiet there. She doesn't drink but I did. I laughed and laughed, then I wondered what people might think.
Tata: Listen, you won't know what's going to help you grieve until you stumble upon it, so be prepared to stumble. Fortunately, you can stumble home
from that place.
Leilani: I haven't got anything to wear to the service tomorrow.
Tata: Anyone's judgment is misplaced. You can go in a bathrobe, if it's cozy.
Leilani: Thank you for talking to me like this.
Tata: Pfffft, when Daria, Todd, Dara and I were in Virginia, we started doing this chanting thing. I mean, who can explain that? One day, we were normal nutbags. Next thing we knew we were standing around the kitchen, warbling about who was getting the paper towels to clean up the garlic off the floor. I don't know what that means, but I do think you should start a blog immediately. Immortalize your antics.
Leilani: Really? I'll think about it.
Tata: Good. Later, Pete and I will do donuts around a parking lot while I fling handfuls of gummy failed bread into the air while birdies roil and scream.
Leilani: You're coming back to the park?
Tata: Absolutely. And I'll blog the duck ruckus, because should that be lost in the mists of time?
Labels: Son Of Schmilsson