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 Content Rating Notice: Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only |
| >> Static Item >> Short Story >> Comedy >> ID #1692349 |   |
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Isms! I've been blessed with two wonderful children. I wish I could count up the moments of joy and pleasure they've given me over the years, but it's not possible. Partly because there have been so many, but mostly because the joy and pleasure is part of everyday life. I breathe the joy and live the pleasure every waking hour. Stephanie is the eldest. In fact, she was twenty-three earlier this year. Her hearing has been deteriorating over the years to the point where she really struggles to understand everything you say. But Stephanie approaches this situation as she does everything else; with good grace, good humor, and a whole heap of memorable Stephanie-isms. The Stephanie-ism has become a real word in our family. It's widely used to describe any comment, statement, question or answer that doesn't quite equate with the reality of the moment. You know the sort of thing; a reply to a misunderstood or misheard conversation, or an opinion on a topical subject that misses the mark. You see, Stephanie is not only hard of hearing, but profoundly blonde. Let me give you a couple of examples. Firstly, we were talking on the phone just the other night, and the conversation went something like this: "So, Stef, are you coming to stop for my birthday?" "Eh?" "MY BIRTHDAY, YOU‘RE COMING TO STOP!" "Next month, yes." "I'll book the train tickets for you." "Thank you." "You’re welcome, Stef. I'll sort it out tomorrow." "You're forty-eight tomorrow? " You see, if she didn't hear me properly then I'd understand the misunderstanding. But she knows when my birthday is, and she knows I’m hitting the big five-0 next time around. Anyway, Stephanie provided me with my first grandchild. A beautiful little girl named Kaitlyn. So, for my second example, Stef and I were on the phone and it went as follows: "Kaitlyn, say hello to granddad." I heard Kaitlyn answer, "Eh?" "Say hello to granddad." "Eh?" "It's granddad on the phone, say hello." "Eh?" "I hate it when she does that. Eh? Eh? Eh? All the time," Stephanie protested. "I wonder where she gets it from?" I asked. "Eh?" came the reply. ~ ^ ~ Things haven’t changed as Stephanie gets older. In fact, if you take her age into consideration you might be forgiven for thinking she’s slightly mad. Like the time she started her new job. She’d done so well at the interview, somehow, that they had called her that very evening and offered her the position. All she had to do was attend a health & safety induction the following day that would take place between 10am and 5pm. “So we’ll see you tomorrow then, Stephanie?” “Yes, thank you.” “Now don’t forget; health and safety, ten till five.” “Okay, see you tomorrow. Thank you again. Bye” The next morning I received a phone call at about 5am. It was Stephanie in a panic because she couldn’t find a way in to work. Not surprising really because they didn’t start until seven. But she heard what she wanted to hear, or what her hearing allowed her to hear, and was there at ten-to-five on the dot. Actually, I should have seen this little hiccup coming. If I recall, there was a rather funny incident involving the application form for this job. Once again, it started with one of those phone calls. “Dad, can I ask you a question?” I closed my book, turned off the radio, put down my newspaper, whatever I was doing at the time. This was going to be far too much fun to be interrupted by other distractions. “Of course you can. What is it?” “No, it’s okay, you’ll laugh.” “Babe, I would never laugh at you. You can ask me anything.” I covered the receiver and held my breath. “It’s this application form, I don’t know one of the questions.” Well I thought I could save her embarrassment so I anticipated the difficulty and gave some dad advice. “Just tell the truth, babe. Fill it in accurately, and be honest.” “I know that, dad, I just don’t know the answer to one of the questions.” “Well tell me, what is it?” I knew it could be anything, like her address or age. Not that she doesn’t know her own address or age of course, but she can put quite a spin on things, and find some elaborate interpretations of the ordinary and straightforward. “You promise not to laugh?” “Yes, I promise.” I squeezed the receiver harder, and stifled a chuckle. I knew this was going to be a classic so I got a pen and paper so I could make notes. “Dad, am I heterosexual?” It seemed there was one of those questions on the application, for statistical data only, like what is your ethnicity, and it had asked her sexual orientation giving her three choices; Gay, Lesbian or Heterosexual. I think she was expecting a fourth choice of, ‘straight,’ and got confused, and I know I should have explained to her what heterosexual meant but, well, I couldn’t help myself…. “You are not, and if anyone says you are, they’ll have me to deal with!” ~ ^ ~ I think everyone in the family has their own favorite Stephanie-ism, and we often sit and share these memorable moments with one another at family gatherings. I certainly have my own favorite. It happened a few years ago now, but it’s still talked about as a true classic. Stephanie was about fourteen at the time and lived with her Mother. She called me up early one evening: "Hi Dad." "Hello, babe. You okay?" "Yorkie?" "YOU OKAY?" "Oh, no, I'm bored." "Is your Mom there?" "She's out." "Have you done your homework?" "No, Mom did it." "Your Mom did your HOMEWORK?" "Oh, no, I thought you said housework." At this point we hadn't actually reached the classic Stephanie-ism, but I should have seen it coming. It was quite clearly going to be one of those special phone calls. After some good old fashioned Dad advice about the merits of a good education and getting your homework in on time, the conversation continued. "Why don't you watch some TV?" I asked. "There's nothing on." "Have you looked?" "I'm not hungry." "LOOKED, NOT COOKED!" "Oh, no," she said, laughing at her own misunderstanding. "Let me look," and I opened the newspaper to the TV guide. "There you go, there's a good film on Channel 4, and it starts in ten minutes." "What is it?" "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." "I can't watch that," she said with real conviction, and for a moment I think it did occur to me not to ask, but I had to. Hesitantly, I said the word. "Why?" And there you have it, almost. The next line out of the mouth of my beautiful, darling daughter will live with me forever. It will have nothing to do with her hearing or her misunderstanding. This was going to be the purest of pure Stephanie-isms, a moment of profound blondness. It will be shared with friends and family for years to come, for eternity. I have written about it because it should be written about, and yes, you may have had to be there, but I was there. After the briefest of pauses I heard the words come tumbling down the phone line. "What's the point, Dad? I haven't seen the first two!" ********************************************************
© Copyright 2010 Ĥans Ŝumman (UN: doublemeasure at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Ĥans Ŝumman has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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