The escalator

Sometimes I worry Sybil will become too old and frail to care for herself three thousand glorious miles away. That is a lot to think about. Do I kill her there or do I bother moving her out here and then kill her? Luckily I don't have to decide right now. Sybil recently made some provisions so she can stay in her mansion for many years to come. She added an Acorn chair lift to her house. Now she glides up and down her stairs with the ease and grace of an 80 year old. When I asked her how it was she informed me that for $300 more she could have had a model with a cushion on the seat. I asked her why she didn't spring for it and this was the response:

"I don't need a plush chair. I'm not going on a bus ride."

Always a pleasure.

I lost a good stock broker today - 9/11 post

Don't feel too bad for the stock broker Sybil lost today. All she did was fire him. She told me he had to go because he only made her $4,000 in the last three months. I was given no details on how much was invested or what the rate of return was, just he had to go. On today of all days.

I really feel for him. Being a stock broker in Paramus, New Jersey, this isn't the worst tragedy to happen to him.

Don't judge me

So I'm sitting on my couch on Saturday when I get a text from my mother. Now this is shocking for many reasons. My mother doesn't text because she doesn't know how and if she did, she wouldn't do it because it costs money. That wasn't even the strange part. The text consisted of nothing but the following picture:

No message, no smiley faces, nothing. Just a picture of Sybil judging me from her couch in New Jersey. Her face says it all. I've wronged her but she isn't going to tell me why. When I talked to her the next day, there was no mention of the picture. Clearly it was sent to let me know, she knows! Granted I don't know what she knows, but she knows.

R.I.P. Joan

The one I really feel sorry for is Edgar. I don't think you can kill yourself twice.

You didn't want a girl?

Yesterday was my daughter's birthday. I have such fond memories of telling my mother I was having a child, especially when I let her know we found out it was a girl. Her response, "You didn't want a boy?" I didn't know I had a choice. To honor the momentous occasion of my child turning 5, Sybil sent flowers. Sybil asked me last week if I thought flowers were a good gift for her. I said no, so she sent them anyway.

Happy Birthday Sophia!

Life is like a free box of chocolates

Back in the late '90s, Chase credit card sent out a box of Godiva chocolates to some of their premier customers. I'm not sure how, but Sybil somehow was on the list. I wouldn't have known about the chocolates, but I came home one day to see my mother's face smeared in what I can only assume was dark cocoa. I literally had to beg her to share one measly piece from the assortment box. She explained that they were sent to her because she was that good of a customer. No big deal. I ate the piece she gave me (probably fell on the floor) and went on with my day. Later I could hear her in the other room talking on the phone, but the only words I could make out were "came melted."

The next day the UPS man came and dropped off another box of Godiva chocolates. I asked my mom why a second box showed up and she played dumb. All she said was "THEY'RE NOT FOR YOU!!" That night Sybil asked me to go with her to Barnes and Noble with her. I will never turn down a chance to read magazines for free so off I went. While I read the latest issue of People I noticed my mother was at the front register talking to a sales clerk about returning the box of Godiva she told them she got as a "gift." The sales clerk said no problem and gave Sybil a store credit.

Over the next few weeks no less than ten boxes of chocolates were delivered to our house. Each box was then driven over to Barnes and Noble for a store credit. Being the great detective that I am, I assume Sybil would call Chase and complain that the Godiva came melted or didn't come at all so they kept sending her new boxes until they finally realized she was a chocolate thief. I would be ashamed of how there was no scam too petty for Sybil, but she did buy me an issue of Maxim on one of those returning trips. She wasn't all bad.

Heh

It's been awhile since I wrote about Sybil. My brother offered me a dollar for the URL.  I assume that was an attempt at a taunt to get me to write. I don't know what to tell him or anyone else. In the last month, Sybil has become a warm loving person who only tries to do right by me. I mean why else would she leave me fourteen messages a day with varied irritability in her voice?

I should mention that yesterday's messages all dealt with the possibility that I might have stolen her handicap placard when I was in town. What kind of a person does she think I am? I know she needs that for parking as close as possible to the door of 7-11 when she goes to get her scratch off lottery tickets. Steal I would not do. Use it to park by the entrance of BevMo when I ran in for Coors light? That I did. And that one time for a slice. Oh, and I guess when I didn't want to pay a meter.

Just because I have a picture of it doesn't mean I took it. Posts to resume on a regular basis.