Sunday, July 30, 2006

Chad's Incompetence

On this, the eve of the day Missy will finally have her cast removed, I offer--for your edification and general amusement--a true and accurate account of events and dialogues which took place the sunny Friday morning just over three weeks ago that the frail, fractured leg was set.

The Scene: Mid-morning, 10ish. I'm in the car with Missy and my mother, driving home from the orthopod's office. We're late getting home because, although we had had an 8 a.m. appointment, a routine x-ray taken after the cast was set revealed a fold in the wrapping which, if left, would have devastated the skin under the cast. Thus Chad--the long, salt and pepper haired, goatie welding assistant who had done the first cast--had to be re-summoned to saw it off, and start all over again. Missy hates Chad.

It has been an emotionally draining morning. I need coffee--badly. Mom is driving.

Cell phone rings. It's Grandpa Dale calling from home.

JEDA Hello?

D. Hi! How is she?

JEDA She's fine...blah, blah, blah...(recount saga of Chad's incompetence*)...Traumatized, but fine.

D. Good, good. Listen. You need to call Mister as soon as you get home. He's been calling here every 15 minutes for the past two hours. He really needs to talk to you.

JEDA Oooookay. Is everything okay? Did he say what was so urgent?

D. No. Just said he needs to talk to you. Probably worried about Missy. Wondering how the appointment went. Something like that.

JEDA Sure, yeah, okay. We're on 13th now, so we'll be home in 10 or 15 minutes.

D. Great! Bye!
Curious, think I as I hang up the phone. What on earth could be wrong? Trouble with the kitchen? Trouble with the house in general? Did my cat die? Surely if it were anything more serious he would have told Dale what was up. Very strange indeed. I'm in the middle of briefing Mom on what Dale had said when the phone rings again.

It's my dad calling from his cell.

JEDA Hello?

Dad Hi! How is she?

JEDA Fine, fine...blah, blah, blah...(again recount saga of Chad's incompetence)...Traumatized, but fine.

Dad Good, good. Listen. You need to call Mister as soon as you get home. I'm at the park with EM and Boy right now, but apparently he's been calling the house. TJ just called me to tell me that he's called two or three times. Apparently it's pretty important.

JEDA Really? Shit! And he didn't say what was wrong?

Dad I only know what TJ told me.

JEDA Hmmm. Well. Okay. We're only like 5 minutes from home now, so I'll call as soon as we get there.

Dad Righty-o, then. Bye.

Curiouser and curiouser. I'm not exactly panicking, but I'm on the verge of genuine disquiet. I tell Mom to hurry it up a bit.

As soon as we walk through the door, I hand Missy over to Grandpa Dale to admire her gregarious pink cast with orange candy cane stripe, rush straight to the phone, and dial home.

Mister (answers on 1st ring) Hello?

JEDA Hi! What's up?

Mister Where are my rain pants?

JEDA ...I'm sorry, what?


JEDA Rain pants? That's what this is about?

Mister YES! I've got three rain jackets right here in front of me, and not a single pair of rain pants to go with them. I'm supposed to be fishing this weekend. It's pouring rain out there. I'll be soaked. Where are they?

JEDA Ummmmmmm, I really don't know. Have you looked...

Mister (rudely interrupts) I've looked everywhere!

JEDA Missy's fine, by the way.

Mister What? Oh. Yeah. How'd that go?

JEDA Fine...blah, blah, blah...(once again recount the saga of Chad's incompetence, only this time investing the story with a bit more emotion and personal anguish. Because, you know, this is my life partner I'm talking to here, and it really was kind of traumatic to see our baby hurt that badly TWICE without being able to do anything about it, and...I don't know...I guess I was just looking for a bit of comfort, or something.)

Mister (has heard nothing I've just said) It's just so frustrating. I've been searching for over two hours. I was supposed to leave an hour ago. Now I'm going to miss the ferry. I guess I'll just have to be wet all weekend.


He bitched some more. I suggested more places he could look. He pouted, and insisted that there was no point because he'd already looked everywhere and they were nowhere to be found. I asked if he was suggesting that I was dumb enough to have thrown them out with the trash when I cleared out the closets for demolition.


I wondered if he were trying to accuse me of deliberately hiding their where abouts from him.


I pondered the possibility of the pants miraculously having gotten up and walked out of the house of their own accord.


JEDA So they must be in the house somewhere.

Mister No. I've looked everywhere!

JEDA Cuz' ya' have a tendency to just sort of glance around without actually looking under things.



Mister Fine

Mutual hang-up

The next day I received the following SMS:


*I don't actually blame Chad for the bum first cast. I'm sure Chad is a perfectly kind Dead Head, and able orthopedic assistant. Clearly the fault lies entirely with the flirty nurse who was assisting the assistant. But Missy blames Chad. Plus I just like saying Chad's name. Thus we arrive at "Chad's incompetence".

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