"Mom, do you know where Jill's green down filled vest is?"
Reply:
"Probably in the house somewhere. We're in Yorkton."
Thanks, cuz all this time I had been looking in the shed...or wondering if I had left it in Saskatchewan...
Fortunately, things started turning around by Wednesday. It warmed up for starters, so I no longer needed the warm vest. Once Friday rolled around I just wanted to get home, away from the small fires on my desk, and eat a hamburger. I also had an assignment from Abby to watch Office Space (no I have never seen it, but this really should not surprise you). Like I said though, My parents came home and had a different idea. After three weeks of being on the road, my dad had a craving for pizza. He is quite particular about his pizza, which meant there was only one place he really wanted to go--Casa Grande. He phoned to make a reservation, found out he wouldn't be able to get a table until 7:30.
"Can you wait that long, Jill?" my mom asked me.
This is nice, I was thinking. I didn't think they'd ask me to come. "I guess," I said. "I just wanted a hamburger."
An hour later when it was time to leave I got my jacket and shoes on, stood at the bottom of the stairs looking expectantly at my dad and said, "well, are we going?"
"Yeah, you've got keys?"
Keys? I was confused. Why would I need keys? I was going out with them, surely they were going to let me back in the house upon our return. Then I glanced outside at the driveway and the pieces came together: Truck is last in the driveway. "Ohhh, that's the catch, I'm driving."
Casa Grande is a tiny traditional Italian restaurant, complete with the red and white checkered table cloths, candles in Chianti wine bottles on every table, red brick walls, and Italian accordion music. They used to have a jukebox that I loved playing with. This place is a family tradition. We've been going practically since I was a lil' bambino. Dad knows the owners well, and we always get the same waiter, Terry. They have a full menu of great sounding Italian pastas and other dishes, but we always go for the pizza. Mom and Dad shared the Super Extra Large Casa Grande Special, I got the ham and pineapple--large that night so I could bring home leftovers for Tracy.
I relayed to them all the happenings of the past three weeks. We were thankfully able to laugh about how I managed to forget to let Elmo in, twice no less. Yes, I was happy to have them back.
At the end of the dinner one of the waitresses stopped by to chat with Dad. She came back later with shots of Sambuca for all of us--courtesy of Frank, one of the owners. It was good stuff. I could only laugh to myself and think, if only someone had told me on Monday that by Friday I would be doing Sambuca shots with my father, then I probably wouldn't have had to look for hearts in my chicken noodle soup.
On the drive home I played my Billy Joel Live CD for my dad--my latest prize from the radio while they were gone. He tried to claim it for himself. My dad has these loud and annoying (I think) sneezes, so of course he had to start on a sneezing fit. I also found myself getting frustrated with the Firebird in front of me who seemed to be out for a Sunday cruise (You have a fast car, drive it properly, I always say, which is something I probably get from my dad. It drives me crazy when I see him in myself). Yes, it had been a long stupid week, but I could see that things were coming back to normal. Yay. Welcome back, Mom and Dad.
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