|
|
Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Oct 14, 2013 7:13:47 GMT -8
To say that Harold had been feeling out-of-sorts lately was an understatement. He hadn't been able to dig a lot of optimism out of his accident and his broken hip. It wasn't for lack of trying, either! He'd tried to take what he could out of it, to appreciate the extra time while down-and-out to catch up on reading, indulge in a hobby or two, and generally laze about. The first couple of days had been fine enough, but this positive spin came undone quickly after that. He didn't like feeling so confined. His restricted movement and activity made him feel unaccomplished, and it was always easy to linger on the idea that this was part of aging, that he was old, and that he useful days were numbered.
It was all making him cranky. Edith had taken to chiding him as often as was necessary. It wasn't just cranky, though, no. His idle mind was going crazy. He was at least half-sure. Without suitable distraction, he'd become fixated on such odd, little things. The placement of some of their furniture was eating at him, and he'd reorganized the dish cabinets after becoming increasingly aware of their non-optimal (for safety and convenience) arrangement. There was also some weird sensory-perception thing going on, sound or images like second-long dreams, quick and easy to forget the contents of. It was still there, though, and it worried him more than the nit-picking did. He could pass off the reorganizing on his bad mood, on his desire to do something useful with his time, on the fact that, hey, it needed to be done. Flickers of sensation outside of what was actually happening? That was some actual dementia stuff, and he was keeping that to himself.
What he wasn't keeping to himself was his inability to sleep well as of late, and it was a much more comfortable problem for many reasons. It had an easy explanation and an easy solution. The Herschel's mattress was old, and, even though she hadn't broken a hip, it was easy for his wife to agree that it was an uncomfortable bed by this point. They needed a new place to park their dilapidating skeletal structures overnight! While it has been an often-complained-about item in their lives, it was also something they'd been forgetting to get around to for at least two years. Harold's nights of restlessness and uncomfortable shifting had been was finally prompted a mission to the shopping mall.
He unbuckled his seatbelt as Edith pulled into a handicapped space (another bonus, he guessed) outside of the Macy's, popping open the glove compartment to switch his sunglasses out for his regular glasses. Despite the promise of getting something accomplished today, Harold's spirit's weren't at their brightest. The thought of the mall made him feel tired. it was too big and too full of people, and here he was walking around with a cane and a careful step. Oy vey.
"Alright," he started, hefting open the heavy door of Edith's spoiled-rotten car and shifting almost warily from his seat. "Let's see what kind of damage we can do here."
Tagged: Edith Herschel
Date: May 18th |
|
|
|
Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Oct 20, 2013 8:12:13 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 18th
tag | Harold
words | 601 | Physically, Edith was happy with the subtle recoveries in her husband over the week. He had spent the obligatory three days in the hospital before he was finally released. His walking had to be minimal. It was painful just to even watch him try at first, but he stubbornly settled into it within the next few days. She had suggested he use a wheel chair for awhile, but Harold ended up with a cane in the end. Just two more weeks and the doctor said he'd be back to normal.
At least that's what the doctor thought.
Edith, on the other hand, was less than certain he'd be really back to normal in such a short time frame. The first day he woke up from his surgery, he seemed to be emotionally and mentally stable. However, there were little things throughout the day that were making her doubt this, aside from his usual habits that she had grown accustom to over the years. Some of it was understandable. With his hip in recovery, he couldn't be standing around at the candy shop all day. She would have none of it. From that, though, it was obvious that her husband must have been bored at home with not much to do. He had always enjoyed puzzles and reading, but one could only do so much of that before feeling some cabin fever.
She found the reorganization of their dishes a strange decision, but she assumed it was an act of boredom. Plus, it was actually easier to find a lot of the dishes she thought had gone missing at last year's Hanukkah get together. What she couldn't see as perfectly normal was his sudden habit to do things like move her drinks further from the edge of the table for what she saw as no apparent reason. They had been married for forty years, she would have thought he was confident in her ability not to spill her drinks on the floor. At least when she was sober. Edith chose not to get mad about it, though, as she figured maybe there was some sort of trauma caused by his accident. Like he was trying to be more careful.
Until she could really understand, or until he decided to calm his old man tits, she would continue to humor him to make things easier for the both of them. And that came easy when the topic of replacing their mattress came up. They had had it for a bit too long, and she was tired of waking up sore herself. While she was worried about him walking too much in their search, she still agreed happily if only because at least she'd be there with him.
And the bonus of her husband having a broken hip? Handicapped parking spaces. She had gotten more than one parking ticket sneakily leaving her car in them in the past, but now she could finally put her prized possession in a place where it would definitely not be hit by anyone else's car door. She stepped out herself, patiently watching him stand.
"Let me know how you're doing, too, alright? We can always steal one of the mall wheelchairs from the customer service." It was a bit too soon for him to give up, but she wanted to make that clear from the get go. She also wondered if they had those little scooters, but she wasn't going to bring up any more than that. "I think we oughta start with Mattress King since that's the closest. Then we can work our way over to Sleepy's." |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
|
|
|
Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Nov 5, 2013 7:25:37 GMT -8
"Yeah, yeah," Harold replied at Edie's request, his tone more dismissive than his actual thoughts on the matter. He had to figure her concern was nice, again, to remember that she only mentioned it because she was worried. He wanted to be able to easily dismiss it, however, at least for the time being. He would put on bringing up any hardship as long as possible, because this whole damn thing was an inconvenience to the both of them. He'd been quite well with a non-broken hip, thank you very much!
Her plan of attack is easy to agree with, however. Harold sighed and let the furrowed expression fall from his face, automatically offering his arm with a little nudge of his elbow. "Sounds good to me," he answered, starting on his awkward stride towards the mall's entrance, so thankfully nearby. "Can't be too hard to find something nice, right? Unless mattresses have gone crazy in the past couple of years."
Which they might have, actually. There've been some odd mattress infomercials showing up here and there. Numbers and foams and the like... Intriguing, but still a new aspect of something familiar and usually straight-laced. He shrugs off the musing as they step through the automatic door. What will be will be.
"Hey, we should get a soft pretzel while we're here. Or a Cinnabon."
|
|
|
|
Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Nov 25, 2013 6:15:43 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 18th
tag | Harold
words | 225 | Edith smiled up at her husband's dismissiveness. She was trying to understand how he must have felt, knowing that it was a frustrating predicament to have your normal activities suddenly so limited. However, that was just part of getting old. Arthritis set in and on a rare occasion you broke a hip. She still found herself going into small fits of laughter over the fact that Harold had managed to break the bone before her, but it wasn't really a laughing matter. He was feeling sensitive about it and she was there to support him in whatever they needed to do.
She locked the car doors and then moved to his side to link his free arm through hers. He might not have liked being careful, but it was for the best. She would just continue to make it clear that she was there to be by his side. "Oooh, I haven't had anything from Auntie Anne's in forever. They still have one here, I think."
The woman assumed that it would still be there. Soft pretzels were a classic and she couldn't imagine them really going out of style any time soon. "We should start off with pretzels and get something at Cinnabon before we leave," she suggested. No sense in not having both, right? Edith smiled as they walked through the mall's entrance. |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
|
|
|
Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Dec 8, 2013 19:50:30 GMT -8
"Ooh. You know, little lady, I like your thinking." Because yes, thank you, Harold would definitely have both a pretzel and a giant cinnamon roll. You can't make up love stories like that, and this snack food plan officially held a special place in his heart starting now, ranked somewhere behind Edith, his family, his shop, candy, codes, Dick Tracy, well-organized schedules, and... Well, a lot of things. That didn't make it less significant, though! It was a delicious and lofty goal to be accomplished!
They came upon a map of the place after clearing the entrance way, and Harold paused to look it over. Again, he got the odd sense that there was something inherently different about the way that he was receiving the information, or the way he processed it. Within a moment, he'd confirmed the best route to take around the great building, snacks and potential bathroom breaks included. While he'd never been much for the mall, and had certainly never plotting one out before (especially so effortlessly), it suddenly seemed so important and almost effortless. It was easy to shrug off, however. The slight oddity of it left his mind as he turned and gently tugged Edith with him.
"You're right. Mattress King first. Let's go this way, and we can loop back around."
|
|
|
|
Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Dec 10, 2013 5:15:30 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 18th
tag | Harold
words | 265 | The woman let out a lighthearted giggle at his agreement. She had never been concerned too much about he weight until she hit that point in her life where counting calories actually did matter. The moment those donuts actually did turn into some added weight around her thighs was when she started being a bit more careful about how she ate, especially after she quit smoking. However, her concern had never been that great and she was also passed the age of caring. She already ate enough of her share at the candy shop and the extra calories of a pretzel and a cinnamon bun couldn't hurt.
Edith had yet to really pick up on her husband's sudden abnormalities aside from the rearranged dishes and furniture throughout their home. So, when he plotted out an appropriate path for them to follow, she didn't find it that odd and agreed with him. She had always thought of him as a clever man and appreciated him for that. He was a nerd, but he was her nerd.
However, she did stop him about halfway to their first destination. Some stores in the mall always seemed to go in and out. It was hard to keep track of what would come next unless she was really paying attention. This time her eyes fell on what looked to be a new store for wine, cheese, and other fancy things like that. It seemed a little weird, but a smile lit up her face.
"Hey, Harold, do you remember that commercial with that special mattress and a glass of wine?" |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
|
|
|
Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Dec 10, 2013 5:34:58 GMT -8
Harold actually didn't know what she was talking about for a long moment. His memory was coming up short, and he was about to quip about whether or not she was actually remembering a commercial or something a little more risqué. It hit him, then, or at least he thought it hit him. "You mean the one where they're jumping on the bed and it doesn't spill? What was it? Foam?"
Yeah, he was sure that's what she was talking about, now that he was onto it. He was about to ask why she was asking, in addition, when that hit him. The store was right there, after all. "Ooh, there's an idea! Do you wanna try it?"
He was still getting used to the idea of letting utterly silly things happen. The sensible side of him questioned whether having an open container of alcohol in a store and jumping up and down on the merchandise wouldn't get them into trouble. The side of him that had stopped giving a crap ages ago figured that a bunch of salespeople weren't going to call the cops on a deranged, elderly couple. The latter tended to win out in Edith's presence.
"You'll have to do all the jumping."
|
|
|
|
Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Dec 14, 2013 7:43:59 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 18th
tag | Harold
words | 230 | Harold's realization about what she was talking about was met by some quick eager nods. Yes, she did mean that commercial where the wine didn't spill. Was it a good idea to actually take a bottle of wine into a mattress store and actually test the validity of this commercial? No. No, it was not. Did she care? No. No, she did not. Worse came to worse, they got asked to leave and likely to not come back. Adding one more thing to the list of places she couldn't go back to couldn't hurt.
"You wait here, I'm gonna grab a bottle," she said, lovingly patting his shoulder. She would have pulled him along in her eagerness, but she didn't want him to go through any unnecessary strain. Her wine selection was quick, grabbing a brand that was one of their tested favorites. It was a little bit pricy, but there was no harm in splurging on something ridiculous every now and then, right? They had bought more expensive wines in the past, and this one wasn't too bad for its current purposes.
After adding two glasses to the purchase and then paying, she hurried back to her husband. The wine and the glasses were carefully packed away in a store bag so as not to be too conspicuous. "Alright, let's go. You do the talking, I'll do the jumping." |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
|
|
|
Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Jan 4, 2014 22:43:32 GMT -8
”Gotcha, chief.” Harold answered with a wink and a somewhat-hokey thumbs up before once again taking up the walk to the mattress store. It was close by, and it was large enough so that they slipped in without being immediately greeted by any overly-enthusiastic salespeople. That suited their mission just fine. Any store employees tagging along probably wouldn’t appreciate any alcohol-related hijinks.
That said, it was best that they be done with it quickly, before somebody did show up. Fortunately, the foam mattresses in question were readily labeled with a rather large and colorful sign proclaiming their virtues. Harold let out a little laugh upon approaching the section. ”Geez. I wonder if this is it.”
That was sarcastic. This was obviously it, and he turned and parked it on the nearest queen-sized setup. After a moment of trying to gauge how foam treats the buttocks and dinged-up pelvis structure, he nodded lightly in approval. ”It’d make a good chair, at least,” he granted it. He started to bend, but paused half-way with a frown. ”Could you untie my shoes for me?”
Because you don’t wear shoes in bed, retail display or not.
|
|
|
|
Post by EDITH HERSCHEL on Jan 15, 2014 7:11:24 GMT -8
The good advice, I always hated, but looking back it made me greater.
May 18th
tag | Harold
words | 279 | Harold’s approval was met by another giddy giggle. Their adventures in life together had been plentiful and much more serious than the one they were currently getting themselves into. Between being rather naughty in ancient tombs and getting into bilingual arguments with possible mobsters in Italy, jumping on a bed in a store was really rather innocent.
Thankfully, by the time they actually made it to the mattress store, she was quick to calm herself so that they drew no suspicion or attention. They came during a decent enough time and managed to find themselves without an overbearing employee popping out of nowhere. Their mattress of choice was not hard to find either. “Jesus, marketing never gets better, does it?” The signs were just as big, gaudy, and overly promising as they ever were.
Harold went up on it first. She almost followed, but she nodded without question when he asked for help with his shoes. Normally she was the type of person who would have brushed it off and told him to do it himself. However, this was the man she loved and he was recovering from an injury. He was lucky. She untied them and popped them off, wiggling his big toe before finally sitting on the bed herself. She kicked off her own shoes out of what little curtesy she had. (Though for a woman about to test their glass of wine advertisement, it wasn’t much.)
“Here, you can get the bottle, right?” Edith took out a glass, but she handed the bottle of wine over to the man. And, of course, she the bottle opener was pulled from her purse of many things. |
electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
|
|
|
Post by HAROLD HERSCHEL on Feb 15, 2014 21:39:14 GMT -8
"Thank you, dearest," Harold said once his shoes were off, attempting a playfully winsome smile and sitting back while Edith dug everything out of her bag. He took the bottle with an easy nod in answer to her question, reaching out for the corkscrew when she passed that over, as well. Double-checking for any store staff, and finding none yet, he cut the foil off of the top of the bottle and twisted the spiraled point of the opener into the cork.
"Not to jinx it," he started, jiggling his hand to loosen the cork, "But the salespeople here aren't all that attentive, are they?"
Not that mattered. Again, such a thing would probably inhibit their plans, which were coming along nicely. He got the bottle open, cracking a smile at the little 'pop' that came with it. "Here you are, Edie," he offered, holding the bottle out to fill the glass.
|
|
