The Floozy (dr. Veltman's girlfriend) has decided he must move closer to her. I don't know why. She says it's because he is old, and starting to become a little infirm. (Starting...?! The man was infirm at 35. How poorly does this creature know him.) She "wants to be close so that she can help when he needs it".
I resent this. Helping dr. Veltman is my task, isn't it? And I take it seriously. I remember 20 years back he ran for a bus - it was the first time he had run, or walked briskly, since his high school days (when the unfortunate event occurred in which he knocked out a girl while throwing to the ground his bat in a game of softball - he cleared a full home run before he realized everybody else had stopped playing, to gather around the poor girl), and he of course broke his foot, the metatarsus to be precise. He didn't tell me about it for a week but when I found out I went all the way to the Bijlmermeer area with a pan of soup - not an easy trip! Usually dr. Veltman drives me everywhere, but for the first time in my life I had to take the subway. Can you imagine it? Me in those filthy carriages? But I did it, when there was no floozy around to pretend to care about him. Someone had to step up to the plate.
Haven't I always been there for him, Joanie? I can't count the number of times I've offered to buy him oranges when he had the flu. Of course dr. Veltman always has the flu. You know what he's like, such a drama queen. He won't eat fruit for the life of him, so there was never any point in my going, but I'd have gone to the Bijlmermeer on the bus and then the subway just to give him those oranges. Because I care.
And now suddenly, after decades, this Floozy steps in and pretends to know what's good for him. He has to live close to her! Which of course means she's simply too lazy to take her ass to the Bijlmer. Some people want to have everything in life handed to them. Sorry to be so rude, my dear - the floozy's very existence has a coarsening effect on me. Even my hands seem to feel less smooth, these days.
Well, I won't make a scene. That's just not me. I suspect she is in it strictly for the money. My, will she have a rude awakening when she inherits all of 350 Euros. All he possesses in the world that's of any value is his collection of Märklin miniature trains. And which child wants those, in this computer age? I'd love to see the look on her face, oh, Joanie, it will be hysterical!!
Love,
Lisa
Posts
2 comments:
Darling Lisa,
I hearya, I believe is what Oprah would say. What I mean is, I totally understand your need to be the sole carer for dr. V. Just don’t forget, dearest, to put on your own oxygen mask first, before helping others. I find this a lovely metaphor that can be used for every situation in life. You know there are still people in airplanes who forget this (well, who can blame them, really. Flying several hundred miles high up in the air and being presented with such an emergency, I don’t think I’ll be the happy passenger they show in those safety videos). Good for you for keeping your calm!
Yours, Annie
Actually, I was in a plane from Amsterdam to New York when suddenly the oxygen masks came down - I've no idea what for, I was nodding off. I grabbed my oxygen mask but it seemed to be defective. And I knew you were supposed to put on your own before helping children, so I took the mask off some child in the seat before mine. Got into a whole argument with the mother, over that.
Post a Comment