So here we go again, it is saturday morning and we all know what I am doing. I am climbing in my grandfathers 1993 Buick "A-La-Sabre" as Papa calls it "sounds much more sophisticated that way" to drive him to his FAVORITE place in the entire world, Wal-Mart. Let me describe this fine piece of machinery: #1 it is a 1993. #2 the passenger rear door won't open. #3 The trunk wont open and is holding his golf clubs hostage. #4 the starter is a little faulty so it takes 3-4 cranks to start the puppy up. #5 he insists that I drive him in that car each and every time we go because "it needs to feel the open road every once in a while."
So we get to Wally and I drop him off at the front door to which he says "I really need to get that handicapped sticker" "yes papa,"I say back (mind you he says this EVERY week) as I wath him grab on the the handles and the head rest and try and pull himself out of the car. He falls back, tries again, and makes it this time. I watch him and his blue quilted fleece vest that he wears each week because "it gets a bit nippy in there." I watch him and his cute little golf hat teeter into the store and I go to find a parking spot. As I walk in he is talking to Ms. Beverley and they are catching up on the specials this week. I walk in and ask her how she is which she responds "gooder than grits." "That is great" I reply making a mental note of the precious new phrase that I will have to remember to use. "Careful with this one" she says to Papa. "Remember last week." She of course is referencing the tragic death of not one, but two scooters on the hands on my grandfather; the one that died causing the great coffee spill and the other that died and he simply abandoned in produce and used the cart as a walker for the remainder of the trip. "It's not my fault they don't invest more in these things.." he grumbles. She pats him on the back and giggles and turns around to check somone's reciept. "Hmm..." he says as he plops down in the seat of the rascal and looks at it like he hasn't ever seen one before. It immediately starts beeping and jolting and wont make it over the mat that is between him and the store. "Doesn't work" he says. By this time I am laughing HYSTERICALLY. He puts it in reverse and almost back into the doors. He stops and studies it for a moment longer all the while the automatic doors opening and closing behind him. Beverly comes over and asks him what seems to be the problem "only goes backwards" he says with a puzzled look on his face. " Let me just get you another one" she says with her sweet smile and backs one out of the storage spot. "This one should suit you better" she says. By this time I am lauging so hard that I am tearing up. I think for a minute that I might embarass my self so I do a quick acessment- who am I kidding... Who is going to care? The lady with corn rows in the shape of a lighting bolt and a t-shirt that reads "I'm too blessed to be stressed- jesus loves me" or the lady with the pants/jacket windsuit set whose pantleg is caught in her tube sock. So I let loose- I am laughing so hard when he finally gets the new one I cant even hear their conversation. He wheels up to me and points at Ms. Beverly and says "Apparently I've been doing it wrong this whole time- you have to sit like this one the seat" and he perches on it like and old lady trying to see over her steering wheel. "oh...ok" I say, but he didn't hear me- he had already wheeled over to McDonalds and parked the scooter in the "cart parking" area. He hobbles over to the counter and as he passes a table I see them laughing so hard that they can't control it. Everyone is looking at this point because I still can't catch my breath from lauging for the last 10 minutes and these ladies are causing quite the rucus. Then I realize that they were laughing at papa too- They had witnessed the whole thing from their table while eating their egg Mcmuffin. He realized that they were laughing at him and as he passed their table he just threw his hands up in the air and said "I just couldn't get it to go." You would have thought that he was Dave Chappelle- They let out a chuckle that was surely heard throughout the store. He passes them with a shrug of this shoulder and a huge grin and goes up to the counter and promptly says "old folks coffee please" and the cashier laughs and says "I'll have to brew you some." "Do what you gotta do" he says and pays him. He passes his fans which also thought that was hilarious and comes over to me saying "get my coffee for me will ya? Two sugars. I'm going to the pharmacy." "K Pop" I say because sometimes I get lazy and don't add the "A" to Papa and just call him "Pop." So while the coffee is brewing I end up talking to these ladies who are STILL laughing uncontrollably. I tell them about how I bring him every week and he is always my comic relief. I tell him how I have to push around a buggy behind him because sometimes when his scotter basket gets full he just throws it behind him and hopes it is my buggy behind him and the story about the coffee tracks. We are dying when the guy finally brings me the coffee. By this time Papa has rolled back up to us with a jerky stop with his pepto max and adult diapers. "bye ladies" he says to them, takes his coffee and pulls his hat low and leans over the steering bar like he's racing and heads off to produce.
Papa goes through phases, he likes certain things, eats them all the time and then moves on to something else. Right now Cheerios are his vice. Let me tell you- this man drinks a gallon of milk and two boxes of cereal a week. I have never seen anything like it. So as I pass the cereal display I yell up to him, because he always wheels a bit ahead of me "Cheerios are on sale" "I like the wal-mart ones" he yells back without even turning around. It don't know what it is about those little round honey oatie spins that he loves, but he loves them.
We then walk down every aisle including the seasonal candy section even though I told him that it really wasnt necessary to buy the "i love you" written out in chocolate. We are trucking along and then I hear him yell "do you like Spam?" I look up from the crouton package I was looking at and everyone on the aisle is looking at us. He leans back in his scooter chair, looks at me, and takes a swig of his coffee. "Um, I don't know that I have ever had it." "Did you know that it is the national meat of Hawaii?" I was a little taken aback by the sheer randomness but I was so happy that he wasnt suggesting it for dinner that I let it go. "I don't think I did know that" I say and look back at the croutons. "You know why?" he asks still leaned back in his seat. "I don't know... they don't have a lot of farms there?" I ask/guess. "Back during the war.." he starts "Spam was a part of the soldiers rations and the hawaiians took a likin' to it." "Learn something new everyday" I say to him. "yep" he says as he whirls around, balances his coffee on the toilet paper and starts scooting off "learned that on the food channel" he says.
He whips around the corner and leans back to me saying "I really think I got a hold of this thing today" as it stops short dribbling a bit of coffee in his lap and then he gets stuck in a corner and proceeds to do a 10 point turn. "Pop, I think you've got it mastered at this point" I say sarcastically but he is too interested in the can't believe its not butter to hear me.
As I am unpacking both baskets onto the conveyer a man walks by us "He looks like a terrorist doesn't he?" he says to me. "My suggestion is if he looks like a terrorist, don't say that loud enough for him to hear." I say. "He sure is buying a lot of milk" papa says. Then as we are walking out he is right beside us and the security gate starts beeping. Ms Beverley goes to check out whats going on and Papa leans over and says "See, I told you, Terrorist."
By the time that I get to the car, unload all the groceries and am walking the cart back I turn around just in time to see Papa make it to the car, stop behind it, catch his teetery balance and kick the trunk. Guess he's pissed his golf clubs are stuck in there..
When we get home and unload the groceries Papa always finds the few things that I threw in while he was wheeling in front of me. It is usually some measly items like a frozen pizza or a bag of chips, but it looked good. Well he find the chips ahoy I stashed away and says "you're so sneaky, always putting something in the cart, opens the bag, winks at me, tucks them under his arm and heads to his bedroom to take a nap.
So we get to Wally and I drop him off at the front door to which he says "I really need to get that handicapped sticker" "yes papa,"I say back (mind you he says this EVERY week) as I wath him grab on the the handles and the head rest and try and pull himself out of the car. He falls back, tries again, and makes it this time. I watch him and his blue quilted fleece vest that he wears each week because "it gets a bit nippy in there." I watch him and his cute little golf hat teeter into the store and I go to find a parking spot. As I walk in he is talking to Ms. Beverley and they are catching up on the specials this week. I walk in and ask her how she is which she responds "gooder than grits." "That is great" I reply making a mental note of the precious new phrase that I will have to remember to use. "Careful with this one" she says to Papa. "Remember last week." She of course is referencing the tragic death of not one, but two scooters on the hands on my grandfather; the one that died causing the great coffee spill and the other that died and he simply abandoned in produce and used the cart as a walker for the remainder of the trip. "It's not my fault they don't invest more in these things.." he grumbles. She pats him on the back and giggles and turns around to check somone's reciept. "Hmm..." he says as he plops down in the seat of the rascal and looks at it like he hasn't ever seen one before. It immediately starts beeping and jolting and wont make it over the mat that is between him and the store. "Doesn't work" he says. By this time I am laughing HYSTERICALLY. He puts it in reverse and almost back into the doors. He stops and studies it for a moment longer all the while the automatic doors opening and closing behind him. Beverly comes over and asks him what seems to be the problem "only goes backwards" he says with a puzzled look on his face. " Let me just get you another one" she says with her sweet smile and backs one out of the storage spot. "This one should suit you better" she says. By this time I am lauging so hard that I am tearing up. I think for a minute that I might embarass my self so I do a quick acessment- who am I kidding... Who is going to care? The lady with corn rows in the shape of a lighting bolt and a t-shirt that reads "I'm too blessed to be stressed- jesus loves me" or the lady with the pants/jacket windsuit set whose pantleg is caught in her tube sock. So I let loose- I am laughing so hard when he finally gets the new one I cant even hear their conversation. He wheels up to me and points at Ms. Beverly and says "Apparently I've been doing it wrong this whole time- you have to sit like this one the seat" and he perches on it like and old lady trying to see over her steering wheel. "oh...ok" I say, but he didn't hear me- he had already wheeled over to McDonalds and parked the scooter in the "cart parking" area. He hobbles over to the counter and as he passes a table I see them laughing so hard that they can't control it. Everyone is looking at this point because I still can't catch my breath from lauging for the last 10 minutes and these ladies are causing quite the rucus. Then I realize that they were laughing at papa too- They had witnessed the whole thing from their table while eating their egg Mcmuffin. He realized that they were laughing at him and as he passed their table he just threw his hands up in the air and said "I just couldn't get it to go." You would have thought that he was Dave Chappelle- They let out a chuckle that was surely heard throughout the store. He passes them with a shrug of this shoulder and a huge grin and goes up to the counter and promptly says "old folks coffee please" and the cashier laughs and says "I'll have to brew you some." "Do what you gotta do" he says and pays him. He passes his fans which also thought that was hilarious and comes over to me saying "get my coffee for me will ya? Two sugars. I'm going to the pharmacy." "K Pop" I say because sometimes I get lazy and don't add the "A" to Papa and just call him "Pop." So while the coffee is brewing I end up talking to these ladies who are STILL laughing uncontrollably. I tell them about how I bring him every week and he is always my comic relief. I tell him how I have to push around a buggy behind him because sometimes when his scotter basket gets full he just throws it behind him and hopes it is my buggy behind him and the story about the coffee tracks. We are dying when the guy finally brings me the coffee. By this time Papa has rolled back up to us with a jerky stop with his pepto max and adult diapers. "bye ladies" he says to them, takes his coffee and pulls his hat low and leans over the steering bar like he's racing and heads off to produce.
Papa goes through phases, he likes certain things, eats them all the time and then moves on to something else. Right now Cheerios are his vice. Let me tell you- this man drinks a gallon of milk and two boxes of cereal a week. I have never seen anything like it. So as I pass the cereal display I yell up to him, because he always wheels a bit ahead of me "Cheerios are on sale" "I like the wal-mart ones" he yells back without even turning around. It don't know what it is about those little round honey oatie spins that he loves, but he loves them.
We then walk down every aisle including the seasonal candy section even though I told him that it really wasnt necessary to buy the "i love you" written out in chocolate. We are trucking along and then I hear him yell "do you like Spam?" I look up from the crouton package I was looking at and everyone on the aisle is looking at us. He leans back in his scooter chair, looks at me, and takes a swig of his coffee. "Um, I don't know that I have ever had it." "Did you know that it is the national meat of Hawaii?" I was a little taken aback by the sheer randomness but I was so happy that he wasnt suggesting it for dinner that I let it go. "I don't think I did know that" I say and look back at the croutons. "You know why?" he asks still leaned back in his seat. "I don't know... they don't have a lot of farms there?" I ask/guess. "Back during the war.." he starts "Spam was a part of the soldiers rations and the hawaiians took a likin' to it." "Learn something new everyday" I say to him. "yep" he says as he whirls around, balances his coffee on the toilet paper and starts scooting off "learned that on the food channel" he says.
He whips around the corner and leans back to me saying "I really think I got a hold of this thing today" as it stops short dribbling a bit of coffee in his lap and then he gets stuck in a corner and proceeds to do a 10 point turn. "Pop, I think you've got it mastered at this point" I say sarcastically but he is too interested in the can't believe its not butter to hear me.
As I am unpacking both baskets onto the conveyer a man walks by us "He looks like a terrorist doesn't he?" he says to me. "My suggestion is if he looks like a terrorist, don't say that loud enough for him to hear." I say. "He sure is buying a lot of milk" papa says. Then as we are walking out he is right beside us and the security gate starts beeping. Ms Beverley goes to check out whats going on and Papa leans over and says "See, I told you, Terrorist."
By the time that I get to the car, unload all the groceries and am walking the cart back I turn around just in time to see Papa make it to the car, stop behind it, catch his teetery balance and kick the trunk. Guess he's pissed his golf clubs are stuck in there..
When we get home and unload the groceries Papa always finds the few things that I threw in while he was wheeling in front of me. It is usually some measly items like a frozen pizza or a bag of chips, but it looked good. Well he find the chips ahoy I stashed away and says "you're so sneaky, always putting something in the cart, opens the bag, winks at me, tucks them under his arm and heads to his bedroom to take a nap.
