Except today was a pretty sobering day because we went up to the hospital to see one of our favorite fatsos. See, Tami has always been one of the most inspriational fatsos of all and she's not feeling too well. She had surgery yesterday and the doctor pulled out a massive tumor. She has been in pain for almost two years and it finally got to the point that she couldn't handle it any more. She went to the doctor on Friday and they decided that she had to have surgery right away.
So fatso and I took our wifies up to see how she was doing. Only when we got there Tami was not doing so well so we just hung out with her family. That was good though because they are really struggling and could use the support. We were lucky enough to help give her husband a blessing. We talked for a couple of hours about how to turn this big ol' challenge into a positive thing that will make us all stronger. That's a tall order. In fact sometimes just hanging on when someone you care about is hurting is almost more than one can handle. It was a good visit. Hopefully in some small way we lifted their spirits.
We decided that later we should try and have porch drink. Porch drink is more like a feeling than a drink. It's when you get together with people you love and time seems to stop, or at least slow down. Everyone sits outside sipping cool-aid or some other concoction and nibbling endlessly on cookies and treats. It's not the sustenance that creates the feeling, well it does create a bloated feeling, but the real feeling is created by sharing company with those around you; and if some of those are from an earlier generation it makes the feeling that much better. With father time ticking that much slower you just might be lucky enough to absorb some of grandma's wisdom, or at least fool yourself into believing that you might be one of her favorites.
So there we were sipping our cool-aid and munching peanut-butter fingers when fatso jr picks up the scale and gives it a squeeze. Not a hug or a cuddle but a death grip measured in pounds. 140#s! Then Stacey proved she was a bigger man and got 170#s. Well that started the ball rolling and you know how the fatsos do with a little friendly competition. Fatso jr decided to try again and narrowly beat Stacey by 10#s. Then I grabbed the scale and gave it a squeeze. 260#s on my first go but I knew that wasn't going to be enough. So i gave it another squeeze and a . . . . .grrrrunt! 270, a bunch of laughs, and a few jokes about dropping something in my drawers. Well it wasn't going to stop there. The scale got passed all around the room with everyone giving it their best shot. A few of them grunting but mostly just squeezing. Paul eventually tilted it out at 300#s - without even grunting (weenie). He's such a show-off. Grandma got 140#s. Everything has to be a competition with the fatsos and tonight wasn't any different. Too bad for them 'cuz I'll always be grandma's favorite grandson-in-law.
