The Wee Barn
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Saturday, October 26, 2002
Posted
6:52 PM
by Ted
Posted
3:22 PM
by Ted
Amy: Daddy, you eat your tongue? Thursday, October 24, 2002
Posted
1:23 AM
by Ted
And still the shopping went on. We had moved on to Queens Quay and were just coming out of a Loblaws superstore when I received an urgent distress call. Ally and Amy had been dropped off near a subway station by her friends, but they had decided to stop at a restaurant before returning home. While Amy had had a great time and loved the miniature umbrella they stuck in her drink, her mood soured as they left the restaurant, and she refused to budge, preferring to collapse on the sidewalk and scream at passersby. We drove over quickly and after wrestling her into the car seat, we sped home as she continued to empty her lungs. Finally, we were home, but wait! There was one item left on the grocery list. Could we skip it? Not likely...so it was back to the store for a turkey. In the end, I left to see my friend in Richmond Hill around 4 pm. My friend -- whose name is also Ted -- and I go back to Junior High. He was the adopted son of a funeral home owner and a tad eccentric in a way I have always found intriguing. I arrived at his bachelor pad, much of which was taken up by a WWII military strategy game sprawled out over a large table. Something about his appearance had changed since I last saw him. He had shaved his head, true enough, but there was something else. Ah yes...the mottled discoloration and scar tissue on his skin running up the entire length of one arm. Apparently, he had been involved in an industrial accident involving large quantities of paint stripper about a month ago. We had been chatting for awhile of such pleasantries when I had to excuse myself for a moment to use the bathroom. Taking a wrong turn down a dark corridor, I nearly ran into a female mannequin (or so I thought) at least as tall as myself. Ted heard my shriek and came running forth. "Oh that," he muttered in his usual deadpan voice. "It's my roommate. He runs a home business outfitting transvestites. The bathroom's over there." So the evening wore on. We went out to see a movie (The Transporter) at the theatre, and came home to watch Fight Club (one of Ted's all-time favorites) on video. When I finally got home late that night, my Dad asked how Ted was doing. I wearily answered: "Not bad...except he had a little run-in with a stripper." He nodded, not looking the slightest bit surprised.
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