The task for Tuesday: drive my 82 year old father to Niagara Falls Canada to shop, not for prescription medications as many senior citizens around here do, but for COCKTAIL ONIONS. Yes, you read that right. COCKTAIL ONIONS. About 4 cases of them.
My parents were married in 1958. My father was 33 and my mother 25. Every day since their wedding day, they have celebrated the "Cocktail Hour" with a Martini. Or, as in the case of the cocktail onions, a Gibson. After trying about 100 bajillion kinds of stinkin cocktail onions, they found that the only kind they like can only be found in Canada. They cannot be sent by mail order. NOOOOOOO. That would be too easy. We must drive about 75 miles and wait in line to cross the border, just to buy COCKTAIL ONIONS. I might by a case of Clamato Juice for myself. The Bartenders variety that is not sold in the States. Even though Clamato juice is made about 10 miles from my house at Duffy Mott. The last time I took my dad to Canada for onions, the border guard on the way back did not believe that we bought 4 cases of cocktail onions. When he saw that we did, he started laughing hysterically.
So, my parents are insane. But when I feel the need to go to the wineries in the Finger Lakes, they look at me like I'm totally off my rocker.
1 comment:
I love this story... you should just tuck all these wonderful bits and pieces of life into the Meezer Tails so everyone can read them!
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