Chinese Food

My mom and my sister, Courtney*, were up visiting me this weekend. While I was at work on Saturday evening and they were bumming around my house, the phone rang. Courtney picked it up and here's how the conversation went:
"Hello?"
"Um, harro, dida you owda some-a Chinese food?"
"Uhh...no, I don't think so."
"Oh, because-a, you -- you cawwed and you make-a an owda fo Chinese food today."
"No, we didn't...but I'll go check with the guys downstairs."
At this point, Courtney sets the receiver on the floor and runs downstairs to where Jared and Andrew are sitting blissfully in their living room, not knowing that some strange teenage girl is about to bewilder them with a most random question.
"Uh, did you guys order any Chinese food?" Courtney asks.
After probably passing a look of confusion between one another, the boys say no, and Courtney runs back upstairs to the phone.
"Um, no, they didn't order any Chinese food either."
There is a loud laugh. "You're such a retard!"
Courtney's heart breaks in two at the stranger's insult.**
The stranger goes on. "Don't you even know who this is?"
"No."
"It's your old roommate, you idiot!"
"Uh...Megan?"
The laughter is deafening. Courtney is hopelessly lost.
"It's Britt!" the stranger finally confesses.
"Oh..." says Courtney. "This is Courtney."
At which point it is Britt's turn to be sheepish...actually, no. She laughs raucously but is probably turning all shades of red. She and Courtney share a good laugh, and Courtney takes the message that I, Retard, am to call Britt when I get home.

*Names not changed because then this story would be pointless.
**No hearts were actually broken in the making of this story.

Olaf + Carol

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. No, I'm not going to rant about the evils of a day that exists for the sole purpose of making singles feel depressed, or the downfall of innocent traditions that is capitalism. We all get enough of that already. I'm just going to paint a picture of something that made my heart melt and gave me another glimpse into the world of real, true, tested and sweet love that I hope each of us gets to experience one day.

I was sitting across the table from a shrunken woman with white hair that's only a touch lighter than her complexion; her shiny blue eyes were wide as they slowly took in the room around her, reflecting a mind that was working furiously but not comprehending anything. She was hunched forward, her knobby fingers on the wheels of her wheelchair, ready to back away from the table and resume her determined wandering should the urge strike again. Crumbs from a readily-consumed carrot cake sat on her paper plate. (Alzheimer's can't kill a sweet tooth!) Her children and husband laughed as they visited back and forth around her, when suddenly her wavery voice cut through the chatter with a quiet mutter: "I think that we should all..." She trailed off and the silence lingered for a few extra seconds as we waited to see if there was more. There wasn't. Her eyes had turned their focus on her husband's arm. He was sitting in a chair with his walker parked beside him, a fairly new addition to his life. Up until a few weeks ago, he'd been living at home. Now he was in respite care in the hospital adjoined to his wife's long-term care unit, waiting for a bed to open up somewhere in the health region. It's the first time in years they've lived in the same building.
Grandpa reached over and took Grandma's hand in his. Looking her full in the face, he began to sing in his perfectly-pitched bass voice: "Let me call you sweetheart. I'm in love with you...let me hear you whisper that you love me too...."Grandma continued to stare at his arm, not responding.
The moment was cut short when the staff came to serve us coffee, but I'll always remember it. I've seen Grandpa serenade Grandma many times before, but this time seemed different somehow. Maybe it's just because I'm older and they're older...I understand more, and they're closer to their last days on earth.
It also makes me think of the fact that we as humans don't understand much. Our minds are always racing, trying to figure life out, but there's too much to know. A lot of our time is spent wandering somewhat aimlessly. But there is a God whose love is always there, being expressed in so many ways that we don't always recognize. Yet just because we don't always recognize it doesn't mean it's not always there.

Punny

I've decided one of the reasons I like working at the care home is because I can finally let loose all the corny puns I've built up over the weeks...and people will actually laugh at them! They're not courtesy laughs either, they're real. We all know the difference.
The sad thing is, I don't find my puns very funny. They just pop into my head all the time and I have to let them out, but I'm afraid all my witty friends would be less than receptive. So I unleash my punning powers on seniors whose cackles make the wait worthwhile.

Correction

I am humbled to admit that I've been spelling my newt's name wrong this whole time. In order to put the sweetest-ever girls' post on the Saskatoon Boys website, my roommates did thorough research on the spellings of every contestable word, which revealed that Haaken's name is actually Haakon. I like that better anyway...has a stronger, more "Godzilla" look to it now.