Written a couple of weeks ago...
Yesterday was a HOT day at the Downtown Disney Dock Stage! After work, I was looking
forward to going home, getting cleaned up and relaxing.
When I arrived home, Carl Edward (my son) was finishing up the chores he had started
working on ten hours earlier-- namely, cleaning his room and feeding the pets. If you could
see his room, you'd understand why it takes so long. He had a visitor, his friend Chalamar.
(Gee, I hope I spelled that right!)
"Did you get my pot back from Matt?", I asked. A couple of weeks ago, our friend Matt (who
is a chef at Bahama Breeze… and he doesn't have his own pot?) borrowed one of the larger
pots from my set of semi-new cookware so that he could cook pasta in large quantities.
Without hesitation Carl Edward had given him the pot that hadn't been returned in several
weeks… and I was getting tired of asking about it. Couldn't Carl Edward just walk over there
and retrieve it? Or couldn't Matt just bring it back?
"No, I did everything but that". Everything but THAT? You've been here for ten hours???
How long does it take? I was irritated.
"I'm going to call Matt myself and tell him to bring my pot back". By this time, Carl and
Chalamar were on their way out the door. He turned around to face me.
"Suit yourself. Oh, by the way, here 's Matt's watch and leather bracelet that he left here
today. When you call him about your pot, be sure to tell him his stuff is here." What??? Matt
came over to our apartment today, and Carl Edward didn't even mention my pot? The same
pot I've been asking about for the past week? Now, I'm more than irritated. I've transitioned
into full-blown peaved.
Carl* continued. "He'll probably call looking for it." The phone rang. "I'll bet that's him."
Carl and Chalamar stood by as I answered the phone.
"Hello".
"Um… I was wondering… is Carl there?" It sounded like Matt.
"Hey, Dude. I'll trade your belongings for my pot."
"Are you talking to me, ma'am?"
"This is Matt, right? "
"Are you talking to me?"
"I said, 'bring my pot back, and you can have your stuff'."
"Are you talking to me?" He was beginning to sound a little frustrated..
"Is this Matt?"
"No, ma'am. It's Joseph."
Oh, crap.
"Okay, all that stuff I just said--- please disregard. Here's Carl." Carl took the phone as I
started laughing. Chalamar was giggling, too.
This seemed like a case of mistakentelephoneidentity , and that seemed funny enough. It
took me a couple of minutes to realize that our exchange could have been misconstrued in a
very different way.
OHMYGOD… Now Carl's friend thinks his Mom is a drug dealer! By this time, we were
laughing hysterically. Our neighbor, thinking something bad is happening in the breezeway,
comes out of his apartment. With tears in my eyes, I explained what was going on, and after
Carl and Chalamar left, I went back inside...still smiling.
For the record, Joseph… Carl's Mom doesn't sell drugs.
Also, for the record, I don't lend my cookware. A cup of sugar, yes. One of my nice pots, NO.
I'm in the air now, on a flight to Detroit. From there, my buddy will rent a van and drive to
Ypsilanti, where for two days, I will see little more than the inside of a hotel ballroom.
This trip will be nice, though, because I will be joined by dear friends from Virginia,
California and Oregon. If I can talk them into it, we'll take a side trip to Hell.
Yep, that's right--HELL. It's a town in Michigan about 30 miles from Ypsilanti.
That's where I'll obtain the absolute BEST souvenir from my trip to Michigan-- a picture of
me standing in front of the "Welcome To Hell" sign. Woo Hoo! You're jealous, I know.
I'll return home on Monday morning, go straight to work at the Magic Kingdom, then spend
the evening at the "Hoop Dee Doo" Revue. What better place to be on my birthday? Fabulous
entertainment, a great meal, and the company of several members of my MMD "family". I
can't wait!
Carl Edward, please be careful, and stay out of trouble. Don't forget to walk the dogs. Like
your Dad said, no girls in our bedroom.
…and Matt… BRING BACK MY darned POT!!!!
Love to all…
Tina Skenes
(formerly BENSON-- yeah... around Rockingham, we're all related!)
*Carl and Carl Edward are one and the same. Carl (the Dad) is back in Myrtle Beach for a few
months, performing at Hard Rock Park.
Yesterday was a HOT day at the Downtown Disney Dock Stage! After work, I was looking
forward to going home, getting cleaned up and relaxing.
When I arrived home, Carl Edward (my son) was finishing up the chores he had started
working on ten hours earlier-- namely, cleaning his room and feeding the pets. If you could
see his room, you'd understand why it takes so long. He had a visitor, his friend Chalamar.
(Gee, I hope I spelled that right!)
"Did you get my pot back from Matt?", I asked. A couple of weeks ago, our friend Matt (who
is a chef at Bahama Breeze… and he doesn't have his own pot?) borrowed one of the larger
pots from my set of semi-new cookware so that he could cook pasta in large quantities.
Without hesitation Carl Edward had given him the pot that hadn't been returned in several
weeks… and I was getting tired of asking about it. Couldn't Carl Edward just walk over there
and retrieve it? Or couldn't Matt just bring it back?
"No, I did everything but that". Everything but THAT? You've been here for ten hours???
How long does it take? I was irritated.
"I'm going to call Matt myself and tell him to bring my pot back". By this time, Carl and
Chalamar were on their way out the door. He turned around to face me.
"Suit yourself. Oh, by the way, here 's Matt's watch and leather bracelet that he left here
today. When you call him about your pot, be sure to tell him his stuff is here." What??? Matt
came over to our apartment today, and Carl Edward didn't even mention my pot? The same
pot I've been asking about for the past week? Now, I'm more than irritated. I've transitioned
into full-blown peaved.
Carl* continued. "He'll probably call looking for it." The phone rang. "I'll bet that's him."
Carl and Chalamar stood by as I answered the phone.
"Hello".
"Um… I was wondering… is Carl there?" It sounded like Matt.
"Hey, Dude. I'll trade your belongings for my pot."
"Are you talking to me, ma'am?"
"This is Matt, right? "
"Are you talking to me?"
"I said, 'bring my pot back, and you can have your stuff'."
"Are you talking to me?" He was beginning to sound a little frustrated..
"Is this Matt?"
"No, ma'am. It's Joseph."
Oh, crap.
"Okay, all that stuff I just said--- please disregard. Here's Carl." Carl took the phone as I
started laughing. Chalamar was giggling, too.
This seemed like a case of mistakentelephoneidentity , and that seemed funny enough. It
took me a couple of minutes to realize that our exchange could have been misconstrued in a
very different way.
OHMYGOD… Now Carl's friend thinks his Mom is a drug dealer! By this time, we were
laughing hysterically. Our neighbor, thinking something bad is happening in the breezeway,
comes out of his apartment. With tears in my eyes, I explained what was going on, and after
Carl and Chalamar left, I went back inside...still smiling.
For the record, Joseph… Carl's Mom doesn't sell drugs.
Also, for the record, I don't lend my cookware. A cup of sugar, yes. One of my nice pots, NO.
I'm in the air now, on a flight to Detroit. From there, my buddy will rent a van and drive to
Ypsilanti, where for two days, I will see little more than the inside of a hotel ballroom.
This trip will be nice, though, because I will be joined by dear friends from Virginia,
California and Oregon. If I can talk them into it, we'll take a side trip to Hell.
Yep, that's right--HELL. It's a town in Michigan about 30 miles from Ypsilanti.
That's where I'll obtain the absolute BEST souvenir from my trip to Michigan-- a picture of
me standing in front of the "Welcome To Hell" sign. Woo Hoo! You're jealous, I know.
I'll return home on Monday morning, go straight to work at the Magic Kingdom, then spend
the evening at the "Hoop Dee Doo" Revue. What better place to be on my birthday? Fabulous
entertainment, a great meal, and the company of several members of my MMD "family". I
can't wait!
Carl Edward, please be careful, and stay out of trouble. Don't forget to walk the dogs. Like
your Dad said, no girls in our bedroom.
…and Matt… BRING BACK MY darned POT!!!!
Love to all…
Tina Skenes
(formerly BENSON-- yeah... around Rockingham, we're all related!)
*Carl and Carl Edward are one and the same. Carl (the Dad) is back in Myrtle Beach for a few
months, performing at Hard Rock Park.
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