Prologue - Thursday night

i picked Mr. Wonderful up at the airport Thursday night, and we went over to Tarina’s; i still had her Christmas present, and we needed to have our goodbyes. of course, in the middle of conversation, goofy head said something like, “shouldn’t we be packing?” to which Somethingina and i replied things like, “give us our 15 minutes, will ya?” and “we’re not gonna see each other for a long long time!” and “you’re stealing her and moving her to Florida!” he’s still in training, see. :-) after Tarina’s we went to my house to check the status of things. it looked to me like i had about three hours of work left, but Ma said one hour, and Frank was able to talk me into the one hour theory. liars. so we left and planned to come back in the morning.

Frank and i stayed at Bikermommy’s house, where he gave me my Christmas presents. my new P99 and a most lovely (beautiful, actually) white gold bracelet, of which i will post a picture as soon as i find my camera. Frank, any idea where that is? oh, and a “Women for Reagan” button that he found at an antiques store, and which i wore on day three. hee.

Chapter 1 - We’re Never Leaving Town

i’ve never seen anyone react to the word “coffee” the way Frank does. we were getting ready to leave Bikey’s & Pappy’s house, and Ma asked if Frank wanted coffee. in a split second, Frank’s face went from “i don’t think i can face this day or any of the days after” to “whee! it’s Christmas, and i just got a Red Ryder BB Gun! i’m gonna shoot my eye out! hooray!”

after he had his coffee and i a Coca-Cola, we were ready to roll. we got to my house, and we started the finishing process. once i had everything that was left ready to go into the truck (just a few boxes, a bicycle, a hammock…) we hopped in the car (which we couldn’t do once it was loaded) and went to get Frank’s Christmas present.

i called Pappy to meet us there, because i told Frank if he’s gonna be a poser, he’s gotta at least pose proper. Pappy picked out the right cowboy hat, which Frank liked a little better than the one i picked. of course, we all liked the felt ones best, but we also figured there’s not much need for a felt hat in Florida, so Frank got a nice straw hat. it looks really good on him, and he wore it the entire trip, except when i was driving, because i couldn’t see the passenger side mirrors over his head warmer.

we went back to the house, and i figured it was a bad sign when my mother showed up, as i knew she got off work at 1. so our plans to leave town by 11 were out the window, as i pretty much expected they would be. at the last second, Bikermommy said, “don’t forget your can opener and corkscrew!” and put them in the map pocket on the passenger side door. we finished loading the truck, hugged my mom goodbye and headed to the U-Haul place to get the auto trailer attached.

Chapter 2 - A New Meaning of “Can Opener”

after the U-Haul boys attached the auto transporter, Frank and i were waiting for them for some reason or other, and we were both on the passenger side of the U-Haul. Minerva was totally freaked out, so we were both over there talking to her, petting her, comforting her. i was standing on the side steps, and Frank was standing on the highest step, above me. he needed to get down, but i was in his way, so instead of using the steps, he jumped backward out of the cab of the truck.

i heard, “ow! ow! ow!”
i said, “are you okay???” and could see him struggling with getting down, so i pushed on his shoulders to help out. more yelling. i still didn’t know what was happening. “what is it?? are you okay?”
he was finally able to free himself and find the ground with his feet.
“something stabbed me in the [pinkytoe]!”

we looked at the map pocket, which was kinda detached from the door now. the can opener (a manual one, not the electric kind) was shining out from the door, gleam on its hook, saying, “look at me! look at me! look how shiny and sharp i am!”

Frank was worried about the hole in his new jeans
“i just bought these! where am i gonna find jeans for $22?”
“sweetie, i don’t care about your jeans, how is your pinkytoe?”
“but i just bought them!”
“does it hurt? are you okay?”
“yeah it hurts. and my jeans have a hole in them!”
“oh my goodness. really. i have a Sam’s card, we’ll go get your jeans there.”
“oh. you have a Sam’s card? cool.”

i finally convinced him to go check himself out. he went to the U-Haul bathroom, and after i made sure Minerva wouldn’t get out, i ran after him and stood outside the bathroom door.

“sweetie? are you okay?”
“uh, i have a hole in my jeans.”
“and your pinkytoe?”
“uh… i think i’m gonna need a band-aid.”

i went to the U-Haul counter and asked if they had a band-aid, which they did. i also asked for peroxide or alcohol, but they had none. they asked if i needed more than one, and i said no, i didn’t, my boyfriend was bleeding and just needed a band-aid.

“sweetie? i have your band-aid. are you okay? does it hurt?”
“eh, it stings a bit.”
“is it bad? do we need to get you to a doctor?”
“no, i don’t need a doctor. i can’t tell if it’s bad, there’s no mirror in here.”
“oh… … … … maybe i should take a look.” having not seen each other neckid, this was a serious ponderance, about which we were both unsure.
“um… … … … maybe you should.”

so i joined him in the U-Haul men’s bathroom, and he went on about the hole in his jeans until i finally convinced him to lemme see. Nurse SarahK is a nice nurse, but very professional, btw. (no comments from Harvey here, please.) he had a nasty, ugly bruise on his pinkytoe, but the band-aid had caught the bleeding, and he wasn’t gushing or anything. i have to tell ya, when i was standing outside and heard him ask for a band-aid, i had this fear that he was going to bleed to death from his pinkytoe, and how does one call her boyfriend’s mom and say, “i killed your son. stabbed him right in the but-tocks with my can opener. get it? can opener?” and i doubt she would have been amused…