Thursday, December 01, 2005

*The reader who shares this with their innocent child may want to take warning in this segment. The character Imogene Burke is closely based on my dear, departed Grandmother Lanning. She had many good qualities, but made some hysterically funny comments that I have here recorded which may not be quite suited for children. Also, the reader is kindly requested to suspend reality for purposes of illustrating some of my grandmother's odder quirks. Emeril was not quite so famous in 1995 as he is at present.

Tuesday and Thursday mornings invariably found Ingrid in the swimming pool at Palm Terrace. Though ordinarily she might have found the aquatics instructor excessively irritating, Ingrid and several like-minded cynics found the bouncing blonde girl to be an endless source of amusement, as she clearly believed that old age necessitates senility. They always placed themselves far at the back, obediently manuvering their foam dumbells and giving every appearance of being just what their instructor Kylie understood them to be; a pack of geriatric children. However, had Kylie overheard some of their remarks, she would have been disabused of that notion, perhaps forever.

"Ok friends, let's really push ourselves and go for one more set! Wheee!" she shouted gaily, bouncing up and down in the waist deep water and waving her foam dumbell over her head, presumably in an effort to liven things up.

"Oh goodie!" wheezed Ingrid under her breath. "Perhaps if we're very good girls, we'll get to do another!"

"Who ever said we were her friends anyway? She's being paid to do this." added Mable Graham, one of Ingrid's dearest cronies.

"Pull away me hearties, we're nearly through!" gasped Imogene Burke, another of their small back row clique.

"Last one through buys lunch at Chevy's!" puffed Ingrid.

"Ok friends, great job! We're ALL DONE!" hollered Kylie. "Time for stretches!"

Everyone dutifully tugged at their right arm with their left hand, alternating arms at Kylie's enthusiastic direction.

"Does she think we're turkeys?" muttered Ingrid, starting Imogene and Mable into a fit of smothered giggles. The common error of substituting 'done' for 'finished' was one of Ingrid's pet peeves.

"Oh Ingrid stop it! You know she tries her best to communicate. Perhaps she feels that she needs to limit her vocabulary so we can understand her better." laughed Imogene.

"Girls, you all did a really fantastic job today! Give yourselves a big hand! Woohoooo!" The soggy sheep dutifully clapped and congratulated one another, and began the arduous task of exiting the pool. Kylie and the lifeguard assisted everyone, making sure that they all made it safely to the locker room. As Ingrid climbed the shallow stairs, Kylie took her elbow.

"Ok Ingrid, I've got you... thaaat's right. One more to go... good job!" she coached. Ingrid always feigned deafness and doddering incompetence around Kylie, just to see how far she'd go. She slowly hobbled over to the locker room, rounding the corner and being sure to be out of sight before straightening up and charging ahead to her usual shower stall at the end of the row, chin held high, spring in her step.

"Yoo-Hooo... Ingrid? Are you in there?" called Mable from the next stall.
"Yes dear."
"Oh good. So it will be Chevy's for lunch?"
"Where else?"
"I hope that nice boy will be there. He usually is on Tuesday's isn't he?"
"Yes, I believe he is. Did Imogene tell you about his..."
"Derriere? Yes, she mentioned it. I was nearly shocked, but I suppose it's not much of a surprise coming from the woman who says she'd like Emeril for a boy-toy."

"And I could have him too, if I were 30 years younger!" yelled Imogene, taking her stall next to Mable's. "The way that man says "BAM" just sends shivers down my spine. And his FOOD. Don't even get me started on his food!"

Ingrid smiled to herself, thinking of the Emeril cookware set that even now reposed on the bed in her guestroom. Imogene had been hankering after a set. It would be the perfect birthday gift.

After completing their toilettes, the ladies piled into Mable's Oldsmobile and headed for the nearest Chevy's Fresh Mex Restraunt. Ingrid adored the freshly made chips and salsa, Mable was addicted to the tortillas that were made as you watched, and Imogene loved the Mexican and Latino waiters. "There's just something so alluring about Latin men, girls!" They all loved the fact that it was not a restraunt frequented by their fellow Senior Citizens. They were often stared at by the younger patrons, and took great pleasure in their confusion.


Blogger Janna said...

Ummmm... dear? What was the warning for? :-)

Monday, December 05, 2005  
Blogger Wife, Mom, Teacher said...

Thank you. I will slightly edit it. But we are pretty open with our kids so it shouldn't be a problem for Twiggy. She is thoroughly enjoying this! :)

Wednesday, December 07, 2005  

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