Like A Guest In My Own House
Right now there are six house guests here in Retro House. One of them is my sister by the law, Suzanne. You can also call her Susan, like my niece Claire does, or you can call her Suze like everyone else. She is that easy going. Suze and family are here for two weeks. Already I am hating the day they leave.
Suze is like a rocket. She's always moving, driving, doing laundry, going up the stairs and down. She gets Steve dinner, washes Alex and Jay's football camp clothes, texts Emily at her friends house and shuttles Muggles to her latest social engagements. But she does it unceasingly and totally non-grudgingly. Yesterday, she told Stephanie and me that she was going to take Jay to football camp and then "take five."
"You do that?" Steph asked astonished.
"Yes. And maybe I will even take fifteen." Suze answered, then added, "But no more than fifteen."
But she spoils me the most.
Last night I was nursing my infant and watching some tube with Alex.
"Alex" Says I, "I'd like some Cookies and Cream ice cream from the BYU creamery." (Could the BYU creamery make me a believer in the once-dreaded frozen concoction?)
"And I'd like some Strawberry." He replied.
Not ten minutes later Suze presented each of us our own cone (waffle) with dripping deliciousness. How did Suze hear us converse? She is always listening too.
But that is not all. When she heard about the Bath and Body Works sale going on right now she gifted me with a Island Cotton Breeze bottle of lotion. Later, she was showing me her BBW "Dream Mist" which I mentioned that I'd like to have for my sleepy nights. A few hours later my phone rang.
"Did you want the Dream Mist or the Dream Lotion?" Suze asked on the other line.
"Suze, you didn't . . ."
"I can do whatever I want. If I want to get the Dream Mist for you I will." Snapped Suze.
There is no bargaining with her, if she wants to give you the Taj Mahal you just learn to accept. Like the other night as we were partaking in Chup's Chicken Tacos she insisted that I eat while she bounced the fussy Chief. And p.s. No I don't eat chicken, I substitute with avocado. I knew you were going to ask.
She also emptied the nursery trash can. There was probably seventy-two mustered colored, yeasty-yummy smelling diapers in there. It was most likey really heavy and Suze only weighs like ninety-two pounds. Could've broken her spine. Risky.
As a matter of fact, even as I type this Suze is asking me if I'd like anything from The Pita Pit. You know, like a falafel or something. I am saying, "Not right now, but thanks." And she is saying, "Are you sure? Really?" And I am responding, "Seriously, but maybe I will take you up on your offer later." And she is saying, "I will keep tabs on you."
And I know she will.
Who are the Suze's in your life?