Driving the Matriarch

Can we go get my perfume?

My mother-in-law wears Nina Ricci "Eau du Temps" perfume; one of my husband's cousins gave the matriarch a bottle over twenty years ago and she has worn the perfume ever since. Her friend used to take her to "a place" to get refills periodically; the friendship has since ended because the lady in question died shortly after she moved away but we never told the matriarch. I am not being facetious about "the place"--neither one of us had a clue what the store was called. However, Sears also sells the perfume but we don't shop there--principles to uphold and all that. My mother-in-law has asked me to take her to "the place" to pick up another bottle of perfume.

Navigating to a "place" to get the perfume.

Well, we used to go this way, then that way and it was beside the post office.

I forgot to mention my girlfriend also emailed to let me know there was a fire-sale on large sized tissues. Hence, we also had to get to the place and from there to Zehrs because, heaven forbid, we miss a sale on large sized tissues. The motto of my life should be "No good deed goes unpunished." Why would I even mention to the matriarch her tissues were once again available? Why would my friend even tell me knowing the probable result? Why? Because we strive to be good and decent people and will one day rot for our efforts.

I drove to the matriarch's old home.

I think we went this way and then that way. Is that the post office over there?

No. Back to the house and the new occupant watching the return of a van that never empties out. Try again.

Okay, go this way and then that way on the next street.

No.

I decide to pull into the nearest convenience store and find out where the post office is located. There are 2, a big one in town and a satellite one in the next neighbourhood. Chances are there is a store beside the big one in town but we go to the satellite one first because the matriarch thinks I am probably wrong about the location of the nearest store. We have to drive to the town.

The matriarch tells me she doesn't shop at Sears either because it is too expensive; I begin to tell her about the labour issues at their Depot south of here and realize I should keep my mouth shut. The only store beside the post office is a drug store.

This is it. This is it.

The matriarch practically jumps out of the car in the way only a 99 year old woman can and we go into the store and buy her perfume. My mother-in-law is absolutely delighted. Now, we can go to Zehrs and buy her tissues.

There are 18 boxes left when we arrive at the grocery store and we put all of them into the cart. Then, my mother-in-law wants to pick up some fruit. I am following her around on an oxymoronic quest when she decides she wants to buy nectarines.

Those are potatoes.

I guide her to the fruit and the matriarch picks 6 nectarines and we wander over to the cash register to pay.

I like eating Canadian fruit. Those peaches weren't that nice.

The nectarines are American and the peaches were Canadian, but it is early in the season yet.

We still buy them and I think as we meander to the car there is no good deed that goes unpunished and people look at my tissue boxes stacked in the cart and I wish someone would just shoot me.