Unanswered Prayers

Posted by Mimi on January 21st, 2010 filed in Healing, Humor, Rescue

Just before the New Year, I was feeling a little puny from having had too much Christmas cheer.  I had been to three Christmas celebrations in as many days and I was whooped.  Flat on my arse. Wiped out.

I knew my MIL was coming over because she had given me the usual vague “I will be there some time later today” comment.   It doesn’t really matter when she says she will be at our house anyway, because she is always late.   I am talking hours, not minutes.  Now I know where Dave got it.

On this particular post-Christmas Monday, I needed a nap.  Dave was entertaining Cooper upstairs and it was nice and quiet downstairs.  I knew I had to shut down for 20 minutes so I could function the rest of the day.

I curled up on the sofa, pulled the blanket over me and rested my weary head on a comfy pillow.  I took a deep breath and then exhaled.    Ahhhhhhhh.

Then, as if right on cue, the MIL knocks on the door.  This sets the dogs off.  ERRRGH.

Now, before I share the rest of this story, let me give you a reference point.  My MIL loves to talk in a voice that is two octaves too high.  Even more grating, she talks to everyone as if they were a baby, including mis-pronounciations and stretching each syllable into two or three syllables.

She walks in carrying a pie plate with a 1/4 of a pie and looks at me and says with a  squeal, “Hiiiiiiiiii!  What choo doinnnnnn?”

Hmmm. . . I can see how my body language and position might confuse her, what with me lying down on the sofa under a blanket with my eyes shut.  So, in order to let her know right off the bat that I wanted to nap not chat, I opened one eye and sleepily said “I am trying to take a nap,” and quickly shut my eye.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.  Just a nap.”  (um, and quiet)

“Would you like some yummy pie?”

(What the hell?  No I don’t want “yummy” pie,  I WANT SLEEP!)

“No thanks.  I just want a nap.  I only have a few minutes.  I need to take advantage of what little quiet time I have,” I mumble, without even opening my eyes.  Then, to punctuate my statement, I pull the covers up and stretch out a little.

She goes in the kitchen and puts the leftover pie in the refrigerator, talking baby talk to herself the whole time.  Seriously lady, speaking of pies, shut your pie hole!   I can’t nap while eating pie or while listening to you talk to yourself in a high pitched baby babble.

“Can I help you?”

(Yes, as a matter of fact, I know a very specific way you can help me.)

“NO. I JUST NEED A NAP.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you nap?”

(Seriously?  Are we still having this conversation?)

“NO.  I just need quiet.”  (And ear plugs and a gag, apparently)

“Can I pray for you?”

Jesus, Lady! (pardon the pun).  Can you pray SILENTLY.  Perhaps in the other room.  For a really long time?

“Sure” I sigh, hoping she will do just that and leave me alone.

Then I feel eyes boring through my skull so I take a peek.  HOLY SHIT!  Her face is a few inches from mine.  Total violation of my personal space. And patience.

“Where can I touch you where it doesn’t hurt?”

“Nowhere.”  Besides, why the hell does she have to touch me?  Is she afraid God will get confused about whom she is praying if her hand isn’t on me?

She places her hand on my knee and proceeds to pray out loud for about 5 minutes.  It felt like an hour.

I swear to you, I am not making this up.  She prays that I will be able to have a nice refreshing nap with no interruptions and will awaken refreshed.   I can not imagine that this irony gets past her, but we are talking about a pie toting, baby talking, bible thumping person who talks to herself.

When she is done, I pull the covers up as if to say LEAVE ME ALONE.

Seconds later Cooper comes running down the stairs.

Nap time over.

To make matters worse, she goes in the other room for a few minutes then comes back in the room and sees me working on the computer.  In her best squeaky baby voice she says, “hey!  I thought you were going to nap!”

Oh.My.God.