Hi, Honey. How Was Your Day?
Using my high-tech recording system (a tiny man who lives in the cupboard and is a certified stenographer) I recorded this conversation with my husband, Kealoha, and our two kids. Here is the transcript. We are eating dinner at this time and I have left out the eating sounds from the transcript:
ME So, tell me a highlight of your day. What about you Moxie?
MOXIE Welllllllll, I had recess and played with Ruby and Viola and we were playing this game and then Ruby didn’t want to so I said I didn’t want to and Viola said she didn’t want to so we played a different game.
ME Nice. How about you Franz?
FRANZ So there are these eggs…
KEALOHA Eggs? What? For breakfast?
FRANZ No, just wait for it. So there’s these eggs and they hatched and I saw them and one of the chicks was all covered with gunk and stuff and there were six eggs that hatched.
KEALOHA Whoa.
ME Okay, Kealoha. You’re up.
KEALOHA Okay. So. At the deli today I asked for half a pound of ham and a half of pound of turkey so she goes to get me the meat and she says “What was that?” and I say “I want a half a pound of ham and a half of pound of turkey” and so she says okay and then gets me the ham. Then she says “Anything else” and I say, getting really heated now, “Yes. I want. A half a pound. Of ham. AND a half a pound. Of turkey.” So she gets the turkey and she says “How much do you want?” and then I…
ME Did you hurt her?
KEALOHA I wanted to.
ME That’s very exciting. Can I tell you about my day?
MOXIE AND FRANZ Okay.
ME So. Okay. I was in my apartment and these assassins were coming to kill me and I had no where to hide so I pulled the stuff out of a bean bag chair and I hid in there all scrunched up…
FRANZ Wait. Wait. Wait! You have an apartment?
ME Yep. And there were assassins coming to kill me. But I hid in that beanbag chair and they didn’t see me. And then, when they left, I jumped out the window, scaled the wall, clinging to it, and then I was lifted up to the roof and it was Choo-Choo!
MOXIE Who is Choo-Choo?
FRANZ Wait a minute! What about Kealoha?
KEALOHA Yeah. What about me?
ME Doesn’t anyone care that there were assassins trying to kill me? All you’re asking about is my apartment and Choo-Choo!
MOXIE Mom. You don’t have an apartment. And I hate Choo-Choo.
FRANZ Is this even real? I mean, what???
ME Kids. I’m a narrator, remember? I’m telling you about my day. That was just the morning. In the afternoon I went all ninja on the assassins.
MOXIE Was Choo-Choo there?
ME Yes.
MOXIE I hate him.
ME That’s okay sweetie. I don’t really like him either. Too much drama. I much prefer Kealoha and his trips to the deli.
The Perfect Answer to "Do I Look Fat?"
There are times when you know you shouldn’t ask a question, but you just can’t stop yourself. This happens to me all the time. I sorta float outside my body, see what I’m about to do, tell myself “Oh no you don’t” and then I go ahead and ask the question anyway.
This happened Sunday evening. Kealoha’s parents and grandmother came over for lunch along with my mom. His grandmother is in her nineties and says what’s on her mind. It’d okay. I figure she’s earned that right. She told us we should live in a different house, that mine was too small, that Kealoha needed to lose weight, that her fingernails were falling off and I was terrified that she was going to tell me I looked fat (because she did say that in my engagement pictures I looked fatter in some pictures than others). Thankfully, she didn’t call me fat. I might’ve cried.
Later, once everyone was gone, I sat drinking my wine. Louis (6) sat working on his homework and Kealoha sat across from us. And I floated outside my body and I knew I shouldn’t ask it but I did it anyway. I said those words every woman shouldn’t say, but she does it anyway. I said: “Do I look fat?”
There was a moment of post-nuclear silence and I think I could see Kealoha sweating. Louis said immediately “Oooooh, no. You are NOT fat. You might FEEL fat, but you are definitely NOT fat.” Then he continued with his homework.
I sat back, glowing. That might be the best answer I have ever heard for that impossible question.
Men: memorize that answer. You’re about to make the woman in your life very happy, and it’s an answer she’ll understand.
I asked Kealoha to check his app and see if I was PMSing. I’m not, but Louis was right. I just FEEL fat. It’s stress. And extra salt. The feeling will pass.
Mushroom Hunting 2011
In which I explain hunting for mushrooms etc.
Man, what a week! Spent most of the week narrating “Split Second” by Alex Kava, then finished narrating my own book “Pepper Wellington and the Case of the Missing Sausage” on Friday, saw a run-through of my play on John James Audubon performed at the GRAM (2nd performance on the 27th) , prepped for teaching summer classes, had two panic attacks (not really), drank mojitos on a Thursday afternoon and chatted with a friend, then Friday afternoon, loaded the kiddos in the car with major amounts of luggage and drove with Kealoha to Northern Michigan to hunt for morels…and for him to meet my family for the first time.
Of course, he’s met my mom and brother and sister, but I’m talking my extended family. My two uncles, two aunts, and seven cousins. With everyone in the house, we were a party of nearly twenty. And Kealoha passed with flying colors.
Friday night, my aunts watched the kids (mine and my cousin’s) so the Adults could go out mushroom hunting. It was getting dark out and wet and the woods were moody, but we went anyway. We found some right away. Walking through the woods, I was reminded on why I like hunting for morels so much. First of all, they aren’t very fast. They basically stay in the same place. You have to get hyper-focused and try to feel the vibrations of the mushrooms. If you are very quiet, the mushrooms will speak quietly and it will sound like rain on your soul.
Crazy much? Nah. I’m just joking. The above is BS. Basically, you try not to step on them. We told Kealoha that if he wanted to be accepted into my family (and my life) he’d have to fill an entire bag with mushrooms. To my delight, he scampered off with an enormous bag hoping to do just that. With the lack of mushrooms (it was cold), we reduced that amount to two…and someone else could find them for him. No need though. Kealoha is a natural hunter. You should see the war paint.
That night we spent together as a family, all of us around an enormous table in my aunt and uncle’s great room. We had veggie chili, cornbread, and other snacks. And we laughed. A lot. I was too brain dead to play card games like the others, but I managed to stay up past 8PM.
DAY TWO
The fog rolled in sometime during the night. Usually when we go mushroom hunting it’s so hot, you get sun burned. This time it was like hunting in late October. So instead of early morning searching, my uncle wanted to take Kealoha on a tour of the area. After breakfast, the aunts watched the kids again (they were having fun creating space worms from socks) and we were off. I felt like I was in Maine. Everything was ghosty and moody and the writer in me was very pleased with the potential for a new mystery novel. Then I told the writer in me to just shut the hell up and relax for once.
We explored dunes, dense woods, and winding roads. And I sat in the back and listened to my Uncle spin local tales.
Then we joined the family and after some general herding, got into four different cars and took off for the woods. In the first woods, we didn’t find any morels, only beefsteaks, but it was still fun. When you look for mushrooms, you can stare at a patch of leaves and not see anything, and then your eyes suddenly focus and you go “Oh!” It’s called getting your Mushroom Eyes on.
We had the kids this time so there was plenty of chatter. Each kid has to choose an adult to buddy with. We learned this since we lost one of my cousins in the woods twenty years ago. Eventually we found her. That was exciting and all, but we sorta decided not to repeat that.
Since this woods wasn’t cooperating, we went to the next one. We have a secret hill we go to where we planted pink and purple lilac bushes in memory of my grandparents. The pink lilacs were planted over twenty years ago when my grandmother passed away; the purple ones ten years ago for Grandpa. Over the years, the flowers have grown together and mixed. It’s enough to make you weepy. We stop to honor our family, to tell stories of finding bags and bags of mushrooms. I could get super poetic here, but let’s just say it’s a moment where we all acknowledge that mushroom hunting isn’t really about hunting for mushrooms at all, it’s just an excuse to get together.
Of course, then we all started finding mushrooms on that very hill. Tricky white ones. You’d stare at the ground and see just the tip of one, uncover some straw, and there were four or five. Kealoha and I found a patch of fifteen. It was very exciting.
The rain came then so we went to The Friendly in Empire for burgers.
GAMING
My family is composed of characters and gamers. Once we’d eaten again, we played Guillitione (a card game), poker, and then Pictionary. Favorite moment of the evening was my mom and uncle going head to head. My uncle is like this math genius or something, and my mom was intimidated. My uncle looked at the card and said “I have no idea what to do”. Mom buckled in and immediately drew a peace symbol. Her team guessed in less than a second. “That was it? The prompt was PEACE?” we said. My uncle shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. I was trying to think of how not to draw war.”
DAY THREE
In the morning, we had leftover crepes and egg casserole that I’d made the day before, chatted quietly as the house woke up and then were on our way. Apparently one of my uncles said to Kealoha that he passed the test and wouldn’t be buried in the basement with the other boyfriends of mine they didn’t like. Kealoha said “Well, I bet they make great fertilizer for mushrooms”. See? He fits right in.
At home, after the kiddos were picked up by their dad, I made some sauteed morels for Kealoha. He took a bite and I saw the wave pass over his face. "I get it now," he said. The mushrooms are meaty, with a chewy texture and a flavor that is rich, subtle and really hard to explain. I think it's that umami flavor they talk about. With butter and a little salt, it's a decadent pleasure.
Turkeys -- A scene for Thanksgiving
A family with five adult children listening to the longest and most inappropriate prayer...ever.
In honor of the impending food porn holiday, I'm posting an old scene from the second play I ever wrote, and the first that was performed in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It's from a collection of scenes on loving called, ehm, "12 Scenes About Loving". Catchy title, yes? Here you are. Enjoy. Read it aloud with your family or post it on Youtube. You'll make me happy doing this.
Turkeys
(by Tanya Eby who is an honorary Turkey)
NARRATOR: You know this scene. You’re wearing clothes that are too tight and too uncomfortable. Your crazy Aunt Betty is talking to the spot on the wall. Your Mom and Dad look older than you remember. Your brothers and sisters are more obnoxious. And no matter how old and mature you get, as soon as you get around your family, you’re twelve years old again. It’s the time for giving thanks.
LIL: Harold, could you grab the turkey? Dad can’t lift it.
MARGIE: Everyone got something to drink?
HAROLD: No, Dad, I’ve got it.
EM: For Chrissakes let him lift the turkey.
RICH: I was sitting there Em.
EM: Shut up.
RICH: My glass is there.
EM: Sit over there.
RICH: You can plainly see my glass sweating in front of you.
EM: Always a poet.
HAROLD: Sit down, ma, will ya?
MARGIE: James, you can’t sit with mommy. Let’s move you so you can sit with your other cousins.
HAROLD: Here, Dad, let me help you.
MARGIE: I’ll be right there sweetie…James, don’t hit her. How would you like it if she hit you? (pause) Not now, angel!
RICH: Em, I would appreciate having my seat back.
EM: Appreciate, huh?
RICH: Yes.
EM: No.
RICH: Now.
EM: I’m not moving.
RICH crawls over her and sits next to her.
HAROLD: Mom, sit down.
LIL: Are you gonna let Dad carve the turkey?
EM: Jesus Christ, look at him with that knife.
RICH: Someone get Dad the electric knife. He’s gonna kill someone.
EM: Shut up, Rich. He’ll hear you.
RICH: Dad’s as deaf as stone.
EM: There you go again—we’ll just call you Robert Frost from now on.
RICH: I prefer Dylan Thomas, thank you.
MARGIE: Dad is not deaf.
LIL: Hey, Dad, you deaf?
EM: He’s not answering.
LIL: He can’t hear anything.
EM: He’s not deaf. He’s ignoring you.
RICH: Hey, Dad, you still giving it to Mom?
MARGIE: Rich!
RICH: Mom’s deaf too.
HAROLD: Jesus, look at them smiling like that. They’re both deaf and old.
MARGIE: They are not deaf and old.
EM: That’s right. They’re insane. There’s a difference.
MARGIE: Everyone got a seat?
LIL: Obviously.
MARGIE: Something to drink?
RICH: Cheerio.
HAROLD: Cheerio old chap.
EM: Would you guys shut up?
MARGIE: James, stop eating. We have to wait for your grandpa to pray.
LIL: You guys remember last Thanksgiving?
HAROLD: Dad prayed for ten minutes.
MARGIE: Shhhhhh. He’ll hear you.
HAROLD: Dad, make it short, will ya? I’m starving.
MARGIE: Shhhhhhh….
EM: Shhhhhhhh, yourself.
They bow their heads. There is a long, long pause. RICH and EM start poking each other. LIL bites her nails. HAROLD looks up wide-eyed. MARGIE remains focused in perfect prayer-position.
RICH: Jesus.
EM: Shut up.
A long pause.
EM: Good God, he’s going for the record.
LIL: Come on, Em. Shut up and listen.
MARGIE : And stop swearing in front of the kids.
EM: I don’t swear.
MARGIE: You swear all the time.
EM: Fuck you. I do not.
LIL: Both of you, shut up!
RICH: How old are you guys anyway?
LIL & EM: Shut up!
A pause. They bow their heads. They begin to look confused. HAROLD starts snickering. Everyone except MARGIE starts laughing.
MARGIE: He did not just say that.
RICH: He did.
MARGIE: He did not.
HAROLD: He did.
MARGIE: I did not hear my father just ask God to keep his (whispered) sex like healthy for another year.
LIL: Oh, my God. Look at Mom smiling.
MARGIE: He did not just say that.
EM: He did.
MARGIE: James! Knock it off!
EM: I’m getting a creek in my neck.
RICH: Huh?
EM: A creek. In my neck.
RICH: Is that the right word?
EM: You and your words. My fucking neck hurts.
MARGIE: Could we please not swear for one minute while Dad prays to God for our family?
RICH: If it were only a minute maybe, but, Jesus, the turkey’s decomposing.
LIL: Oh, thanks, Rich.
RICH: No problem.
LIL: Now while I’m eating I’m going to think about flesh rotting.
RICH: Hey, no problem. Glad I could provide a clear image for you
HAROLD: Hey, Rich, what happened o you and that woman?
RICH: What woman?
MARGIE: Will you guys be quiet and listen to dad?
HAROLD: That woman…you know…with the big…
RICH: Oh…..
MARGIE: I don’t think you should be discussing amorous relationships during a prayer.
HAROLD: Who said there was anything amorous about their relationship? You were just sleeping together, right?
RICH: Yeah. Which is why I didn’t want to bring her here. I didn’t know if she’d be able to ward off Dad.
LIL: Oh, shut up!
MARGIE: That’s disgusting.
EM: My potatoes are freezing.
HAROLD: Hey, Margie. Check out your little angel over there.
MARGIE: James?
RICH: Wow! That’s really something!
MARGIE: James, get that fork out of your nose, you could puncture your brain.
EM: Wonder what else he could fit up there.
RICH: Hey, James, look at this!
RICH is trying to put his entire fist in his mouth.
MARGIE: Honestly, I don’t know where he gets it from. Stop that!
RICH: Sorry.
THEY bow their heads and continue to listen to the prayer.
HAROLD begins to sing a limbo tune.
EM: Shut up!
HAROLD: Listen, I’m about to fall asleep so before I do, I thought I’d offer us a little entertainment.
EM: You need to take lessons.
HAROLD: You gonna pay for them?
EM: You gonna pay me the fifty bucks you still owe me?
HAROLD:I don’t owe you fifty bucks.
LIL: Yes you do. I remember.
HAROLD: What do you mean, you remember?
LIL: Well, Em borrowed the money from me to give to you.
EM: I did not.
LIL: Yes you did.
EM: That was fifteen years ago.
LIL: And the interest is still accruing.
EM: You did not add interest to it.
LIL: Yes I did.
EM: You are such an ass.
MARGIE (exploding with pent up fury): SHUT UP!!!!!!
(PAUSE)
Dead quiet.