Pop, Sears, and Artificial Limbs

Usually, I'm not given to allowing the greeting card holidays to influence the direction of my thoughts, so I was a little surprised to find myself thinking of my father while shaving this morning.

I'm sure it will surprise no one that my father had a corny (and highly repetitive) sense of humor. Go ahead, take your tape measure out to the apple tree, see if I care.

By the time I was five, my father's primary objective when I or my younger sister came to him searching for a little sympathy over a bump, a bruise or a scrape was to make us laugh. One of his favorite moves was to call out, "Dor (my mother's name was Dorothy), where's the Sears catalog? We're going to need to order a new (pick one: leg, arm, shoulder, finger, etc,) for this boy."

Sears catalog was yesterday's internet shopping session. Us kids used to make up our Christmas list from the toy catalog. Unfortunately, my mother also used the Sears catalog to make up the all-important shopping list, but she used the big catalog with the pants, socks and other practical stuff and not the toy catalog. (Oh, and I know spell-check will frown on "us kids" back there, but, as I told a friend recently, don't let spell-check take over your vocabulary, your new words belong to you).

I guess he is up there wondering about the karmic effect of all those times, as my older (oldest, really, but we try to humor him on that score) brother contemplates a knee replacement once his golf league concludes its season. He joins my sister who has 2 store-bought knees, and my younger older brother with his new hip (oh, don't let him fool you with that partial stuff—a hip replacement it is, just the same). By the way, Pop had a knee replaced in his 70's. Don't say it—and I'm showing signs of needing a brain replacement. Sears should have listened to him all those years ago. They would be doing a land office business in medical devices today.

Not to be beating anything with a dead horse,* but I think I have decided, just for today, that life's hurts could use a little more laughing off. Thanks, Pop.

*my new favorite malapropism