While The Rest of the World Sleeps

I have no story to tell today, either.

But, I can tell you that I flew home from Minneapolis today after my nephew's baptism at a Methodist Church on Hennepin Avenue in Minneapolis. I'm not sure that that's all that entertaining or important, unlike today's Mother's Day sermon where the PastorPriestFather compared Desperate Housewives to Ruth in the bible. But, I digress. So, after the service

He's sewing now. The needle and thread are nowhere to be seen.

my brother had a GetTogetherEvent and he totally jacked up the hamburgers on the grill for the whole freakin family.

Question: how do you jack up hamburgers on a freakin gas grill?
Answer: Ask my brother.

He's riding a bike now, but the bikes hanging from the roof of the carport.

So, anyways, I'm trying to help my brother very politely by cutting open the hamburgers and showing him the raw insides that are still mushy and red and cold..but.. he knows better. And besides, I'm from Kansas (he won't admit it in his Diesel jeans and Kenneth Cole shirt, but he's from Kansas, too) and I don't live in a million dollar home in Edina, MN. What do I know?

But, when he thinks I'm not looking, he sneaks in and grabs the second batch of burgers and puts them back on the grill.

He's sleeping again now.

So, later, while everyone is gorging on some chef prepared $200 cake and some CrapAssFakeVanilla Healthy Choice ice cream, one of the guests on his NotWifeButMotherOfHisOnlyChild side of the "party" declares to the table that the hamburgers were "disgusting" and

He's reaching out and holding the hand of someone who isn't there.

everyone agrees that the hamburgers were raw and then I try to make light of the situation and avoid the awkward silence after I looked at her and she said "Oops, I didn't know anyone was listening", so I say "You know, I tried to tell him that they weren't cooked, but men don't like to be told two things: 1. how to cook a hamburger on a grill and 2. how to make love to a woman -because all men were born with those innate skills - much like women are born with ability to suck the life out of a man," but I digress. Ok, so I didn't say the "women were born with the innate ability to suck the life out of a man part", but I thought it. I admit it.

He's twisting the fleece blanket in his hands now.

So, anyways, why exactly do you pay like hundreds of dollars on a cake and then spend 3 dollars on a gallon of vanilla ice cream? I mean, at least get a gallon of RealVanillaHandmade ice cream from the little joint down the street for 10 bucks. I mean, for 7 more dollars, you complete the illusion that you live in a perfect little world and people won't remember that the cops were at your house earlier in the week breaking up a dispute over my 9 month old nephew because the NotWifeButMotherOfHisOnlyChild decided to go out till 4am and party up with some Coke and Weed and GodKnowsWhatElse and then try and breastfeed my nephew because She just lost her other child to the guy who founded your local Best Buy's Geek Squad, her ExHusband, who she talks about ceaselessly as the AssWhoRuinedHerLife because she can't shoulder

He's talking now. He says he's ok and doesn't want any water. And now he's mumbling again and slipping back into InBetween.

any blame for doing drugs cause she's rich and a model and addicts just don't look like that and the rehab was for the family.

Anyways, as soon as I touched down in KC from Minneapolis, I got a phone call. "Hours Left." So, I speed back to the airport, leaving my kids with my Grandparents (first time they've been away from my wife and I for more than an hour or two), race to Southwest Airlines and get my ticket and I'm back in Chicago in only a few hours and a couple hundred dollars. I secretly wish they accepted overpriced white baptism cake and cheap ice cream for payment. It cost the same amount. That's Irony in Economy. Anyways, I digress again...

The girls are back to watch over GrandDad. My short watch is over. I'm not sure that watching a 94 year old man slip out of this world is any kind of "watch", but call it what you will.

And here I am, now, with 3 others sitting in this tiny room, watching GrandDad drift between two worlds and watching him talk to people in both at 2am on a Tuesday while the rest of the world sleeps and life goes on.