We did it! We survived another Michigan winter. Even though today still feels and looks like winter, I can get over it because I know it won't last for long. Lately, April in Michigan has taken on a whole new meaning for me. For one, it means Tiger baseball is back. Since they have been a bit more successful the last few seasons (okay, maybe not so much last year or in tonight's opener in Toronto), we enjoy watching them so much more than in years past. It's funny because, at the end of the season, I find myself thinking I will miss hearing Rod and Mario's voice broadcasting the games on TV. Probably because I associate their voices with spring, new beginnings, and hot summer days. Saying goodbye to them, means saying hello to winter and shortened days.
April in Michigan also means that the Red Wings are growing their beards and getting into playoff mode. Also, with Michigan State in the NCAA Final Four, which is being hosted in Detroit, there has been even more excitement in the air. We all know that Michigan State winning the tournament won't fix our depressed "state," but their successes have helped lighten the mood, if only temporarily.
Finally, April in Michigan means my parents return home from wintering in Florida. In light of all the health challenges my mom experienced last year, this April is especially meaningful to me. Today was the day. For them, it means closing up one house, loading up the car, spending two days on the road, and then opening up another house. Not easy work for a couple of oldies but goodies.
This year, being the wonderful daughter that I am, I spent most of yesterday grocery shopping for them and prepping some meals for their first few days home. I feel certain that I will be moving to the front of the line in heaven for that good deed. Next my brother, who happened to be off work today, and I met them when they arrived and helped them unload the van. Holy crap! I never knew two people could own so many overnight bags. I suppose they use them because they are easier to carry and pack in the car rather than loading up giant suitcases, but seriously, after awhile, I started to feel like a bell boy.
After we managed to get everything into the condo, I started helping my mom unpack some of the stuff and sort out what bags belonged where. Some didn't need to be dealt with right away, so they were relegated to the guest bedroom. Since the thermostat had been turned up to 70 degrees upon their return, I began to sweat profusely.
Next, we headed to the kitchen where I helped her go through the boxes of food they brought back with them. Multiple bottles of buttery oil used for her sock-it-to-me cake. Two GIGANTIC jars of peanut butter and multiple boxes of Ritz crackers. It was like a modern-day bible story of the fishes and the loaves, only it was the peanut butter and the crackers. There was more than enough to feed the masses, or as my dad likes to say "we have enough food to feed the Russian army."
I asked her why two people, one of whom weighs all of 99 pounds, would buy food like they are feeding a family of 12. In November, when they prepared to head down to Florida, they brought a bottle of catsup and a bottle of ranch dressing to my house so they wouldn't have to throw them away. Each bottle must have been about 64 oz. I hated having them in my refrigerator, because they took up way too much condiment space. They were like condiments on steroids. When I brought all the food to their house yesterday, I packed up that big-ass bottle of ranch and put it in their fridge. When the catsup got remotely low, I tossed that baby right into the garbage to open up some prime real estate space on the top shelf.
When I came home, I said to Ed "I'm not sure at what point in their lives my parents became so odd and irrational." (I suppose Alex and Cameron wonder this about us all the time.) Why do my parents find the need to shop for food at Costco? Just because you can get five bottles of catsup for the price of three, all contained in one, doesn't mean you should buy it, especially if you know you will be crossing states lines within months. The only thing you should be buying in massive quantities when it's on sale is butter!
To be fair, I have observed that it's not just my parents that are infatuated with Costco. When Ed's dad was alive, he had a membership to shop there as well. I asked Ed, "why does a widower in his 70's need to shop at Costco? What's he stocking up for? Who's he cooking for over at his place?" I've never been in a Costco myself, but I can only imagine you fall into a drug-induced-like stupor the moment you walk through the doors. You are probably so overcome by the massive quantities of "stuff" that are priced inexpensively you feel compelled to buy. One time Ed accompanied his dad on a trip to Costco to see what it was all about. Big mistake. He came home with a five gallon jar of pretzel rods that I couldn't even fit on a shelf in my floor-to-ceiling pantry. He walked in the door and gleefully exclaimed "look what I bought!"
Oh well, the important thing is that my parents have survived another winter and have been blessed with safe travels. Hauling in an extra 10 pounds of peanut butter was well worth the trip and, believe it or not, I'm thrilled to have them home, no matter how weird they've become.
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