Odd Saturday. Nobody woke me up, and getting out of a warm bed is about as hard for me as getting out of a hot shower. It usually takes a lot of insistence on somebody else’s part, or a lack of hot water. But there are limits. We are civilized, are we not?

Eventually even I couldn’t stand it any more. I sat up, looked at the clock and thought, “Five o’clock and it’s light outside already? Can’t be, it should be dark this early in the morning. I never wake up this early. But it can’t be 5 in the afternoon, can it?” Sure, I was tired. But no way can I justify staying in bed till 5:00…. yes, in the afternoon. Anybody who knows my Mother’s side would nod and say, “Yup, Mother’s side.”

May I digress with a little family history? Thank you. When I was a child my aunt Linda secured her place in family lore my walking out of her bedroom, asking what time it was, and upon being informed it was 1 in the afternoon said, “It’s only 1? If I’d known that I would have stayed in bed.” It’s true. Ask any family member, they’ll smile and nod.

Back to the present. The Supernurse was at work, she was working 11am-11: 30pm. She later told me that Trainboy wanted to wake me up at 9:00 “Because it’s late.” She knew I was up late reading and told him to let me sleep. Normally he would have woken me up after she left so we could visit his cousins. He’s a good boy; he followed his Mother’s orders.

I asked Ms. Pikachu why she didn’t wake me up either. She said she’d woken up at four in the morning and heard me typing, she figured I needed the sleep. It’s all so sweet, what do you do? I can’t blame them for my own sloth, though that would be handy. No doubt about it though, I’m responsible for getting my own butt out of bed, my kids aren’t.

I belatedly got out of bed, dressed, and asked the kids if they were hungry. Why yes they were. I took a poll of what they wanted- shrugged shoulders. Well, they got something from me. I offered Bishop’s Cafeteria. They agreed. We like buffets- there’s no waiting, everybody gets what they want and as much as they want. Into the car and away we go.

When we get to the mall where Bishop’s is it’s 6:00. Most of the cars at the mall are parked in front of the Bishop’s entrance. Not surprisingly it’s very busy- a long wait in line. We still don’t like long waits. So we go over to the mall directory and I’m amazed at how few choices there are.

The mall never adopted the food court idea. Eating establishments were scattered all over, making it a pain to accommodate differing wants. As an alternative, in about twenty minutes you can be down the interstate at a huge mall in another town that almost requires hiking gear and a map to get around. It has a food court where you can watch ice skaters on the indoor rink. Everybody goes there, it’s the popular thing to do.

But back to the local mall. I would estimate 30-40 percent of it is vacant. It’s an economic slaughterhouse where dreams get butchered. It’s sad, because those businesses were owned by people who owned homes, paid property taxes, and supported other businesses. The mall down the road isn’t going to do anything to support this town, it just sucks money out. But I’m preaching. Sorry.

So we had all of about four choices to eat- Orange Julius, Chick Fil-A, a deli, and a Maid-Rite. We would have eaten at Sbarro’s because the kids like pizza, but that’s gone. Ms. Pikachu suggests Maid-Rite. Good call . My folks owned one, lost a lot of money trying to make it work, and at a very young age I learned how to make a good soft-serve ice cream cone. There’s a lot of sentimental baggage involved, and I’m happy to help a guy who’s probably struggling to make it work too.

We walked down to his place and it was depressing how few people there were on the way. You could shoot skeet in the mall and probably not hurt anybody. We stepped right up to the counter, no wait and we like that, Maid-Rites and onion rings for Ms. Pikachu and me, chicken strips and fries for Trainboy, drinks, and we’re set. We sat at the counter in the window and watched a few people walk by.

When Montgomery Ward was open there was a salesman who, over the course of a few years, sold us our TV, a CD player, and VCR. He was a nice guy, we liked him. After Wards closed he opened an ice cream shop in the mall. I wondered if he was still in business, or got run through the grinder. So when we were done we walked farther down. Surprise, surprise, he was still open. We exchanged pleasantries. I bought a smoothie, Ms. Pikachu got some ice cream which she said she’d share with Trainboy. Neither one was really hungry after just eating, but they couldn’t turn down ice cream.

As we headed back to the car Ms. Pikachu asked if we could go to Petco to get some more fish. I’m nothing if not a pushover. Sure, why not. So we went to Petco, and had to wait for some guy who apparently wasn’t going to buy anything, but wanted to monopolize the sales clerk’s time because he had too much of it himself. We stared at fish and waited as patiently as they did. Eventually he ran out of things to discuss and Ms. Pikachu got to tell the clerk which fish she wanted. They discussed it a little, then Ms. Pikachu walked towards me.

When she got to me I asked her what was happening and turned my head to the left. It was a little noisy in there, and I was turning my right hearing aid towards her to hear better. The next thing I notice is my daughter laying face down on the floor at my feet. She’s a joker, but this just wasn’t right.

I got on my knees next to her, and called her name. No reaction. Dear God. All I can think of is a story where a child had an undiagnosed heart defect and just fell over dead one day and there was nothing anybody could do. Panic. Fear. Those are good words for panic and fear. But they don’t come close to what I was feeling.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and started to turn her over. Please be okay. Just be okay. All you have to be is okay. Please.

She slowly regained consciousness and sat up. She was scared, said she had felt light-headed and then she woke up. Now she felt fine.

The clerk came over with her manager and they tried to be helpful, but what could they do? We left the store without any fish. Get the kids in the car and we’re on our way to the hospital where the Supernurse works. No way am I going to blow off a faint like that, this has to be run by the Supernurse.

At the hospital there’s a lot of people waiting in the emergency room. I tell the admission person I need to talk to my wife. She calls the nursing supervisor and directs me to second floor. When we get up there the Supermom is waiting.

She takes Ms. Pikachu’s blood pressure and temperature, and then calls the family doctor. The doc asks how she fainted. It’s actually better to fall over like a tree. If you just slowly collapse in a heap it’s probably a seizure- that is serious. She fell like a tree. The doc is not too concerned; fainting just happens sometimes. The only concern is whether or not Ms. Pikachu was injured from the fall. Her jaw hurts. Another nurse gets her an ice pack. Doc says to keep an eye on her, and she’ll note it in her file.

We leave, walking by the people still waiting. Sometimes life is not fair. Sometimes I don’t care.

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