For the Pastries

February 13, 2010
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“Why are you making that face? It's just a short drive, you should be happy to help.”

“A short drive is fifteen minutes. You want me to drive you a whole hour to a place I don't know, for a haircut.”

“It's the best salon I've ever seen! You have to take me there.”

This is how my day starts. Wake up, brush my teeth, and just as I'm fixing breakfast, the other resident of this apartment asks me to take her to get a haircut because the public bus is “too dirty” for little Miss Muffet. This old lady has lost her marbles and now the marbles are flying at me. Happy, happy, joy, joy. Why did I decide to room with an elderly? Oh, right, she makes good cookies. And cake. And pie... stupid pastries.

“I'll tell you what; I'll drive you to this oh-so-special salon and you make a batch of chocolate-chip cookies when we get back. Deal?”

“Sure, but after the salon take me to Dr. Riemann. Then I want to jog at a nice park. After that, I want lunch at Olive garden. Then it’s a trip to the mall....”

Oh, God. What did I get myself into? After the doctor visit, I convinced her an early, light (read; cheap) lunch would be best and we had a sit-in at Subway where she regaled me with very descriptive stories about the trials and tribulations of being old. My hair was down and covering the little ear buds of my new headphones.

After that, I told her I had a class at the college and dropped her off at home, pretending to be very worried about an upcoming test. In reality, I spent the next two hours at a movie theater watching Depp pull yet another box office hit. When I got back, there were three plates of chocolate-chip and white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, as well as dark chocolate brownies, waiting for me on the dining table. I'm going to get so fat living with this woman. Looking around, I noticed the clock and realized it was her nap time. The next hour was spent pigging out and writing a term paper in my room. Mm, chocolate.

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