We might just need a Priest at the house. A young Priest and an old Priest. We got a few things around here that need exercising, and not just the fat guy this time. Opps, exorcising, sorry I get those confused, they feel the same to me.
Oh, the daughter. The happy go lucky kid. Where has she gone?
Recently she’s starting suffering from what I can only account for as demonic possession. She’s lost her mind(s). Great example last night. I was informed that I had be at a meeting at the school at 6:30, tomorrow (today) to learn more about the annual 8th grade trip to Washington DC. Middle kid went on that trip; he didn’t have a lot of good things to say about it. Oldest did not go on that trip, in the interest of being “fair” we decided that spending $5,000 in hockey equipment, tournaments, league fees and so forth his 8th grade year trumped the $600.00 for the DC trip. (Stop gasping, the kid was a goalie, goalie parents know it’s $3500 in hear to step on the ice, that’s why the association gave us an annual $15.00 stipend for gear.) ( Again with the gasp.. OK it’s actually more like $500.00 if memory serves. Those pads on his legs, they were $2000 alone.)
I digress here.
“6:30 meeting huh.. I have a lodge thing that I can move, ok I’ll see if I can…” Middle kid, whose serving as a sort of surrogate parent these days, since the good parent is in California and the kids are left with Captain Dysfunction. He’s really stepped up to be a good parent to my daughter and I. “Uh, it’s not in the evening Dad, it’s in the morning, before school.”
WTH? Well, you can’t go.
I shouldn’t have joked in hindsight because when I learned more about it, she really can’t go. This wasn’t news that she received well. Matter of fact she growled at me. Snarly faced me. Showed me her “I’m disgusted” face, and turned just the teensiest bit bitchy. Here’s the deal, on further investigation I learned that the price of the annual DC trip has gone up almost 3X, it’s now $1600.00. $1600 for a weekend in DC. That’s a fly out on Friday am, do some sights, get back on the flight home Sunday evening thang. No freak’n way.
Call me crazy but that’s a ton of money for two nights in DC, and that’s without hookers and booze. My travel budget is already pretty sore this month, can’t see doing this. And I told her so, in a loving way that I hoped she’d understand. The Middle Kid did. “Dear” I said as I patted her hand, “for $1600 all 4 of use could go to DC and visit some of your Mom’s cousins and Uncle and Aunt and we’d have a great time. We’ve never been to DC, lets pinkie swear to that one day, other than this summer.” The older kid chimed in “the trip sucks too Lolo, no time to do anything.”
How reasonable am I?
Well, not reasonable enough to get an earful about friends and Eric got to go and some thing else I didn’t catch, and she never gets to do anything, and then she played the card: “Call MOM AND ASK HER”. Ooo the Mom card again. Nope, I don’t need to check in with your Mother, I’m telling you you’re not going. And with that, she pointed to the ceiling, peed on the carpet and said “you’re going to die up there”. What ever that means. Ran of to her room.
I headed out the garage, looked around to make sure that I wasn’t being followed and called Mrs S. Just in case.
Filled in my wife on all the details. One thousand six hundred dollars is a lot of money. She was in full agreement. (he shoots, he scored.. gamble paid off) We could in fact all go out there for close that kind of coin. Might be driving but we’d be there.
I didn’t see the girl the rest of the night, except when she came down to complain that her iPad couldn’t connect to the home network. Brother had helped her disconnect when she wasn’t looking. Really? That’s how we spend our time around here. You ever get the feeling that you’re tied to a stake and the townsfolk, aka the children, are piling logs around your feet and looking for a match. Really, little torments. All. Day. Long. Hate um.
This morning I woke and did the morning routine, which usually has me out of the house 30 minutes before the yoots. Dude was in the shower after I had breakfast. but uh, no sign of the daughter. She’s usually up early making her lunch. Hmm.
Went in the room and found her asleep. “Do you have school TODAY?” needed to get her attention. She sat up, looked at me, I thought I saw her head do a 360 around her shoulders as she said, in a voice that sounded like Ethel Merman meets Gene Simmons, the Kiss Gene Simmons not the mellowed old guy marrying Shannon Tweed on the Family Jewels show. “I’M NOT GOING TO SCHOOL TODAY. IT’S TOO LATE NOW”.
Hmm.. this is a new one. Stared at her. “it’s too late Dad, I’ll get a tardy, I’m staying home.”
“Bull shit you are”. “I DON’T HAVE TIME TO GET DRESSED.” “Well you can go in your PJ’s makes no difference to me” “MY HAIR, I DON’T HAVE TIME TO DO MY HAIR”. “We can shave that head of yours and save you hours a day, and fix half the drains in this house.”
She wasn’t liking my answers and I wasn’t liking the conversation. I looked her in the eye, she squinted back, stare down.. and I backed up a few steps and, about as loud as I ever do exclaimed “Demon I CAST YOU OUT”. She looked up at me like I was crazy. “The power of Christ compels you, the power of Christ compels..” The parent kid walked in and reminded me that we were Jewish and this wasn’t a great solution. Besides, we didn’t have any holy water, and the Lebanese rose water in the cupboard wouldn’t have the same effect.
Girl was silent as my son and I talked about her in the third person.
“you don’t think she’s possessed” I asked.
“might be, but I don’t think we’re qualified to do an exorcism”.
“we’re Jewish Dad, don’t believe in demonic possession.” “Ok”
“The Exorcist was a fictional horror movie, you sometimes forget things like that. Remember when you asked us if Terminators were real? Remember?” I did.
“Lets just back down and let her get dressed and I’ll make sure she gets to school.”
“thanks Son, you’re the best”
“Besides Dad, if you really could do an exorcism and if demonic possession were real, I’d have started with dog. That beast truely is possessed.”
I looked at my little puppy who was watching us intently all cute and shit. “What do you think Giggs?”
“Kill them, KILL THEM ALL”.
He always says that.