Francois Meunier turned ninety on June 12 but it was necessary to celebrate the occasion more than once as there was not enough room at the Grey Nun’s Hospital in Edmonton to host the family (his children, grand children and great grandchildren) in one sitting. I was privy to the early event. There was Chinese food, beer, pop, and, of course, cake.
Great grandchildren Zane and Ayla were there. I formally shook Zane’s hand, told him who I was and asked him if he remembered me. He looked at me as if I was out of my mind and said: “Of course I remember you!”
Me: How did you get to be nine already.
Zane: It was easy
Zane and I yucked it up and decided we would form a comedy team. I cleverly came up with the name: A to Zed as my name starts with A and his with a Zed. His sister said: “My name starts with an A too.”
Zane: But you’re not funny.
Me: Maybe we could put her in training because I am a lot older than you and might die, then she could take over.
Zane: That is a good idea.
Ayla: Thank you.
So beer and Chinese food and family. How great can 90 get? There was cake of course with two candles – one 9 and one 0. I commented upon the fact that this was a good idea, because with 90 candles the hospital might burn down. A bystander said: “Or at least set off the fire alarm.” The birthday boy blew both candles out. Zane said: “No girlfriends”. I was very amused by this comment but slightly puzzled until straightened out by Colette. If one blows out all of the candles on the cake you get your wish, but if any remain they count the boyfriends and girlfriends you might have. So that was very clever, of Zane. Someone plucked the 9 off the cake. Zane said: “Look, you are about to turn 0.”
Zane then shared his To Do list of the day, a practice he had just initiated. He began: “Wake Up
Check mark.” I began to laugh so hard that I had to run to the bathroom that was conveniently nearby. I made it on time. Then later that evening Colette and I were eating at La Ronde, here at the Chateau Lacombe. We had an Irish waiter and so Colette kindly started to tell her Irish jokes. Again I had to run to the bathroom and in that I was lucky. The outside goes around but the inner core, the one with the bathrooms, remains stationery. The timing was perfect, the woman’s was right there.
But I have a confession to make. The second night I was in Edmonton visiting Adele and Doug. And that time I did not make it to the bathroom on time, twice even. The first time that I wet myself (as they say in the UK) was at their house one and a half years ago. Those Meuniers are to blame. Adele kindly washed my clothes. I confessed to Birthday Boy.
He: What was so funny, what made you laugh so hard?
Me: I can’t remember. I think it was something about the nicknames I would give them on the blog.
I emailed Triple C. with news of the event. He responded: “Sounds like another day in the life of Alexis “no filter” McBride haha”
