always be prepared

as much as this goes against my feminist leanings, i think there's always something about a girl's mother that she associates with being a woman/adult.  for most kids, it's probably dressing up in their mom's jewelry, clomping around in her high heels and spreading her lipstick all over their faces.  they prance around, everyone loves it and ta-da, you've got a lady in the making.  however, my mother wasn't into jewels or makeup or five-inch heels.  she was a painter, a cake maker, a writer, a brilliant student.  instead of carefully putting on eyeliner, she was constantly analyzing, assessing and was preparing.  therefore, our house was almost always stocked with goodies, as my mom has this really awesome ability to think ahead.  i could decide on a whim that i wanted to make cookies or cakes or a complicated dinner and she would always, without fail, produce everything i needed.  it was the same with medicines (which i'm sure had a little bit to do with all the hypochondria spinning around our house).  i could have any symptom in the book and she would have on hand in the house the exact remedy i needed.  i loved that about her.  in my eyes, my mom was so on top of things, she was a superhuman.  i associated being grown up, being a woman, with always thinking two steps ahead.  plus, there was also the very reassuring feeling that we always had whatever we needed, and that we could count on our parents to provide it for us.  and now, that i'm a grown-up and trying to sort out my own household, my mother is who i aspire to be.  this is why, for the past several months, since we moved into this house, i've had a box full of medical supplies (every over the counter drug possible, band-aids, ankle wraps, face masks, etc.) sitting in the hallway near the bathroom, as there is absolutely no room for all of it in the bathroom.

luke thinks this is insane.  he's wanted me to throw it all away for months.  he doesn't think there will ever come a time we'll need meat tenderizer for mosquito bites or special anti-fungal creams.  and, if we did, he figures we'd just go to the store to get them.  unfortunately for him, what he doesn't realize is that going to the store is akin to failure.  in order to be the master of your supplies, you must have already have them all, so that when someone asks for something obscure and you produce it for them instantly, they think you are magical (which is all i really want anyway).

so, this brings us to today, when my grandpa delivered to us the extra medicine cabinet he made for us.  yes, an extra one.  don't you people know you need one for things you use all the time and one for just-in-case supplies?  he installed it in the bathroom and it's beautious and i can't wait for tomorrow when i can start stuffing all my drug store purchases into it.

while the grandparents were here, we met up with one of the great-aunts and we all went to a deli, where we were surrounded by little old ladies playing pan at their tables, some of whom recognized my grandparents (and one of whom was the mother of my second cousin's ex-husband).  apparently, the valley's older jewish scene is quite a small world.  i absolutely love my grandparents and the aunts and the lunch was hilarious, adorable and probably incredibly annoying for our waitress, which is pretty much how we roll.

each and every time i see them, i realize how very, very lucky i am to have grandparents who not only love me but also craft me magnificent cabinets and shoot me knowing looks when we're confronted by crazy people in restaurants.  the snark is genetic and there is nothing better in the world than being a sarcastic diva with your grandfather.