Retribution at it’s best

So remember last week when I wrote all about chocolate and sharing. (If you haven’t the major point of this post will not make alot of sense so I suggest you read it first) Well the power of the Internet has prevailed and one of the longest unresolved chapters in my life has concluded.

You see I flew home for the weekend for my Grandparents 65th wedding anniversary sans Husbando. It was a bit of an extravagance, however when it came down to it I just couldn’t help but go. After all how many people get to experience their Grandparents 65th wedding anniversary. Not many at all.

This lucky girl hopped on a plane on Friday night and arrived in Abbotsford around 8 pm. I stepped out of the aircraft and felt the thick, January air laden with moisture. The air in British Columbia is so delightful. It is a great reminder that I am home. I can feel my thirsty skin drink in the extra condensation and shout “Thank You British Columbia air! I will now return to my regular form and shed this attitude of dryness and cracking skin.”  I kid thee not, it is that instantaneous.

I walked into the terminal and looked around for my Dad who I knew was going to pick me up. The bags hadn’t rolled on in yet, so I waited patiently keeping near the entrance  of the airport as I knew Dad would come charging in any minute. Then across the terminal came Tom Hamel, moving with a determination that only he can accomplish, leading his body with his head and walking as fast as possible as he came towards me. I love that Dad of mine. He was a welcome sight in all his argyle glory.

After we hugged I sensed that he wasn’t quite content yet. Something was not yet accomplished that was integral to his current state of mind. This is a common disposition of my Father’s, so I wasn’t shocked in the least bit. I just assumed he would remain antsy until we actually arrived at home and the next task on his list of things to do would take precedence in his mind. He then took out his iPhone to take a photo, as he does on all airport arrivals these days. I smiled as he snapped a photograph. Then he told me to close my eyes and put my hand out, a classic tactic to increase the element of surprise in a given situation. I heard some rustling around as he took out whatever it was he was going to hand over to me. I held out my hand and felt a fairly weighty paper bag plop into my hand. Then I was given the okay to open my eyes.

And pray, what did I see in the palm of my hand? See for yourself.

The long awaited repayment for a heinous crime

Lo and behold it was my long awaited, deeply coveted, chocolate covered pretzels from Purdy’s. To which the 7 year old inside of me that had so patiently waited for 17 long years said,

“Yessssssssssssss!!!”

So that previously unresolved chapter is now closed in my mind. Thank goodness as I am in need of room for other things (hopefully not grudges) to fill that recently vacated space.

I did learn a few pearl of wisdom from this experience. Firstly, sometimes bringing up silly little things allows you to resolve those silly things. Since I’m all about conquering silly little things here, I’d say thats pretty swell.

Secondly, sometimes when you bring up those silly little things your siblings start to remember their own silly little things tucked away in a corner of their mind. Then they start asking your Father things like “So why didn’t I ever get that clay you promised me as a teenager to create beautiful pottery items”  or “Where are my ice creams bars that were prematurely taken away from my personage?” I guess I’ve started a grass roots movement to resolve all of the offenses of our childhood of treats and privileges taken or not received.

To which I say, “Sorry Dad.”

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3 thoughts on “Retribution at it’s best

  1. Well, I don’t think I can do anything to make restitution for the “yuckies” phobia* I gave to your 3 older siblings, however.

    * when the kids were little I made voices for the pulp in their orange juice: “Hi. We’re the Yuckies, and we’re going to get you!!!”. To this day 3 of the 4 kids strain their orange juice! Parents, don’t underestimate your ability to press your kids’ young minds!

  2. Pingback: An archive of stored memories | conqueror of silly little things

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