Just over a year ago, Dal, Hel and Bel were moving into their second place of residence in Sydney. This move came out of necessity. It was necessary that we didn't line the pockets of our first landlord with any more money than was due him. Our landlord thought it necessary for us to pay him $25 more in rent a week and we thought it necessary that he take a hike and we move OUT immediately.
Because we were attempting to move as cheaply as possible we needed a good trailer and car combo to get all our furniture the ten minutes down the road. My parents volunteered to drive the 12 hours from their place to ours with their four wheel drive (with tow bar) along with my little brother to help with the move.
Being a part of the Mormon church has its perks, one of them being the insta-removalists that can be conjoured from thin air at any given moment. Of course this means being an insta-removalist at many points during your life (but that's a different post). So, along with our insta-removalists, my parents and little brother and LQ (she was a BIG help.... cough, cough) we managed to move our entire household in one afternoon.
It is customary to pay for any insta-removalist by providing dinner/pizza after the big move. We dutifully paid our debt with plenty of good pizza available at the new house. I failed to mention that most times the insta-removalists will partly consist of two of our strapping young missionaries that seem to plague the countryside. See... they really are useful!
The conversation over pizza and soda was titillating. I am not sure if you have noticed, but a lot of those strapping young missionaries are usually from somewhere in North America. The conversation came around to the inevitable link that we as Mormons all have. One of the Elders (missionary) mentioned he came from Lethbridge, Canada. Dad, being an expert on all things Canadian, just like he is an expert on all things Japanese because he once spent six weeks there, started telling this young man all about Canada. Although dad has never been to Lethbridge, he liked to think he had a special connection with this particular young man.
In my many travels I have come across a grand phenomena. Where ever there is a foreigner the locals will try to play the connection game. Dad plays this game particularly well.
The conversation moved on. The pizza moved on to a better place. Time came for our helpers to move on. We thanked them and as they moved down the hall toward the door, dad in a desperate bid to stay in the mind of our Lethbridge friend yelled from the living room,
"GIVE MY REGARDS TO LETHBRIDGE!!!"
And I couldn't help but shimmy down the hall with my spirit fingers out kicking my legs in true show girl fashion.
Of course it is now customary to address any departing visitor with the famed "Give my regards to Lethbridge!"
6 comments:
I want it quiet book please, please. You are a very talented seamstress Helen. I'm impressed. Where did you the get the idea/pattern?
That bag is adorable. And from now on, I'm wrapping up every new encounter with a show-tunes intensive rendition of "Give my regards to Lethbridge!" Genius!
I would love the quiet book. pretty please with a cherry on top. My first thought when I saw your title was "what about bob?" what do you use in your heatpad? wheat or rice?
LOL -- My dad is soooo like that! I think they would get along, my dad and yours :)
HAHAHA! My father-in-law is exactly like that. That's hilarious. And I love the term "insta-removalist." It's my hubby's new nickname, as he is a regular at such events.
Thanks for delurking at my place, by the way. :-D
HAHA i've never heard that story before. I can just picture the ol' Bob. Bless his heart :S
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