Life is slowly getting back to normal after my sojourn with the Nelsons, which was arguably one of the best nights of my life. I was rather nervous about the whole thing but Mrs. Nelson was just charming and I quickly relaxed. Things got really awesome when Ian, Corrie's older brother with a good haircut, took us for a spin in his new X-Terra. It turns out he bought this really cool "tool box" and they gave him an SUV to go with it.
Dinner was wonderful: some sort of lobster dish that didn't have lobster in it, Ian might of had a human tooth in his (steamed!) broccoli. Things were going swimmingly until tragedy stuck, as Corrie for some reason felt compelled to opine, "This day has been so anticlimactic." Well thanks very much! I wasn't aware Miss Corrie that all of life had to be a 24/7 amusement park. It's not my fault there are no singing pirates or dancing bears to entertain us during dinner. (Admittedly, I am also at a loss in regards to the meaning of that last sentence. Dancing bears!? Come on now Michael. Sigh.)
But then Trevor came home with an angst-ridden, pink T-Shirt wearing friend and their presence was like a ray of sunshine bursting into the dining room. Young Trevor, what with his Elvis belt buckle and walking stick, is truly the future of our generation. Full Sail, the Florida based film school, would be lucky to have him.
Then more of this, and more of that. We ate dinner, smiled at each other, sipped our water, smiled, and shrugged, and sipped, smiled, sipped and shrugged and smiled again. An ominous thunderstorm rolled in and it was decided we'd all breathe a bit easier if I stayed the night. The couch was comfortable enough, but alas, every time I'd start to drift off I could hear Corrie's voice echoing in my mind, informing me "that was the couch my parents would make out on in high-school." It was a rocky night.
Morning came, and to my surprise I found the mood in the Nelson household to be somewhat gloomy--it turned out they were (understandably) incredibly sad to see our visit come to an end. I'm not entirely sure, but as Ian (the older brother) was leaving for church I could've sworn I saw tears welling up, and though I wanted to comfort him and assure him we'd meet again, I held back. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done.
Pulling out of the driveway, I noticed that the good Dr. Nelson had fashioned black wreaths to the trees in the front yard to mark my poignant departure. I smiled sadly, shrugged, and shrugged again.
4 comments:
"that was the couch my parents would make out on in high-school."
- I might hate her alittle for saying that. ew. my parents were never my age, they never had hormones, they have always been old people. I REFUSE! As we speak i am deciding which shirt i shall bequeath to give warmth to your pectorals through the day. Im thinking the oprah burning in hell one. eh? And what will come of America if I am indeed the future? straight up pure awsomeness+ world peace. world peace be cause in the middle east all the terrorists with their bombs and bullets and camels will realize my complete awsomeness, therefore becoming buddy buddy with america. Trevor for Prez '28.
Trevor, your journal about the concert rocked my face off. It sounded great... I was looking at Trivium's CD you left on the stairs, and Corrie just scoffed. She doesn't think you're so awesome. Be careful around that couch, and Oprah is the devil as far as I'm concerned.
M Rice
Oprah is the devil? Explain.
Mel,
I was just trying to be nice; you're right :)
OK OK, Oprah isn't the devil. Geez. She's charming.
Okra Wimpey is what I called her growing up...
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