Time, The Essence Of

HH is chronologically challenged.

Last weekend, when we had our little excursion to the new bowling alley at 4:30 p.m., we discovered that the boys' bowling league had started earlier that day, and had just ended. Both boys had told me that bowling started on January 3. But HH had insisted that it was on January 10. So the boys missed their first day, the day of sign-up and getting on teams. HH said, "Oh, well. I could have sworn it started on the 10th." No mention was made that HH is a COACH for the little kids, and they started the first day of league with no coach and nobody to organize their registration and teams.

This morning, I had to take The Pony to look for some new shoes. He has a bad case of Stinkfoot, in case you've ever seen that episode of Angry Beavers. Anyhoo, I planned to leave around 9:45 or 10:00. I asked HH what time I needed to have The Pony back for bowling. HH said, "It starts at 2:00. As long as we leave here by 12:45 or 1:00, we will have time to eat and get things ready." Let's not forget that the Family Fun Center where bowling occurs is only 10 minutes from our Mansion. The boys and I told him that bowling used to be at 1:00. HH wouldn't listen. On my way out the door with The Pony, I told him he needed to call and check on the time. I had to stop by the Post Office for a package, do the Devil's Playground shopping, and pick up 5 prescriptions for HH. I think he needs some of that Alzheimer's medicine. You know, from the commercial where the spouse says how the doctor prescribed it for their significant other, but they waited to fill it until they saw that they really needed it? Like the grandpa who meets his granddaughter at the airport, and calls her the wrong name? Yeah. I hate those commercials. Fill the prescription, people! Don't test your spouse.

The Pony and I were barely to town when the phone rang. It was the #1 son. "Dad made me call the bowling alley. Bowling starts at 12:00. You need to be back by 11:45." Um...this was at 10:10 that he told me. Which was going to put quite a rush on me. Darn that HH and the chicken he rode in on!

We saw My Sister the Mayor's Wife in The Devil's Playground, but I told her we couldn't talk, we were in a hurry. Of course they had no shoes to fit The Pony. 1998 must have been a very good year for Ponies, what with me NEVER being able to find his size of jeans or shoes or jackets or dress clothes. This has been going on since he was a little shaver, and there was never any problem finding #1's sizes.

I called HH as we left the pharmacy, where they only had ONE of his prescriptions, seeing as he had just filled them on December 27. Had HH bothered to tell me this? Nope. "I don't really need them right now." That's what he said after he asked me to pick them up. I don't know what he was thinking. Sometimes he waits until he takes the last one, and then calls them in. He says it won't hurt him to skip a day or two. I'm surprised he's not stone cold dead yet. Anyhoo, I offered to drop off The Pony at bowling, since it was already 11:20. HH agreed.

We got there right before HH and #1. They drug out the ball bags and went to the door. IT WAS LOCKED. HH had neglected to see when it opened. NOON. The old bowling alley let you in a couple hours early. You could spend your money on food and games. Not with the new hoity-toity bowling alley! To make matters worse, a guy who is kind of in charge, who HH bowls with, pulled up. HH said, "He'll let us in. Hey, Bubba." Bubba unlocked the side entrance and went in, with no acknowledgment whatsoever. HH said, "Well, we can wait in the van." I told him no, I was not going to wait in the van, I'd had enough, and I'd go home and carry in my own groceries and put them all away, and I was NOT coming back. Guess I showed him!

So many little problems could be avoided if HH just understood the concept of time. Tomorrow, I will tell you a tale of HH's mischronology that will tug at your heart strings. Really.