I am back on Mom’s shit list. There was a time I would have worried about it but now, it’s more of a fun game than anything else. We are “pure bloods” that didn’t get vaxxed so maybe that’s what has the old bitch in a bind. The fall/winter colds are all starting up again which has the faggotry, the neurotics and the hypochondriacs in a flather. The wife sent texts to her parents because there is a cold making the rounds at work. It makes sense, I suppose… if a bad flu is a deadly pandemic killer, the common cold could be too, right?
Yesterday I was summoned by Queen Mary to help with dawg wrangling. She has an elderly German shepherd that can’t get in and out of vehicles and she just needed a lift. She is a devout Covidian and is all flathered up about the new lockdowns. She was stressed right out about it too. I thought we were taking the dogs to the vet but we all actually went to the doggie chiropractor. Mary punched me out and got me into the mask, and I got dragged in with the dogs. I wasn’t there to help so much as I was there to listen. Mary is a blabbermouth and a chickenhead … but she is one of those that can still be a good person in spite of it. King Peter works up north on shift work and she spends too much time alone. She talked my ear off all the way in.
What a racket. We go into the store and this chick comes out to treat the dogs. The doctor pets them and massages them a little, while the two women had a hen party! HAR HAR HAR!!! HAR HAR HAR!!! I wondered if the chiropractor wasn’t more a psychiatrist for Mary than an animal doctor. As the hens flapped and cackled, I zoned out the way men do at such times. Up on the wall they had a diagram of the holy chakra points on dawgs. That’s yoga… isn’t it? HAR HAR HAR!!! Y’know those old cat ladies that discover their felines are vegans? Or non-binary? They’d fit right in this joint!😂👍
All the way back home Mary chattered and finally started to decompress. She took her mask off long enough to eat a quick snack as we drove home, I guess my filthy, festering Covid germs don’t attack during meal time. She asked what we were doing about the Covid threat and I assured her I was well prepared. If I get it, four fingers of scotch and 72 hours in the rack will take care of it. She hardly took notice, I was quickly scolded and then she was off prattling again. She just needed someone to talk at.
As we drove home the fall leaves blew across the road in the soft autumn sunshine. It is a beautiful time of year in Alberta, perhaps almost as beautiful as spring…? I am not unhappy to see traditional family Thanksgiving cast aside in the wake of Covidism… but I will feel bad about Halloween. I love to see the kids out, watch the wife dish out candy, and seeing the kids act like kids like when I was a sprog.
The times, they are a-changin’.