...day to day and days gone by!

'POPS' THE WORD!

Yesterday Philip stumbled out of bed at the 'crack of noon' and headed straight for the pencil sharpener, which is fastened to the work bench out in the garage. Also in the garage is his 'personal' fridge! He came back moments later ...panic in his eyes...anxiety in his voice...and informed me that we needed to get more 'pop'...'cause Johnny would be here soon! I asked him how many were out there? He knew exactly...16 cans! His fear was well-founded...in his world!

Have you been noticing that in most of the pictures of Philip he is holding a can of pop? Take a look...

No clowning around when it comes to Philip and his beverage!

Philip's obsession with pop (we suspect it's simply the 'feel' of the can in his hand...kind of like the pencil) started shortly after he left high school...so around 17. Of course, my close connections to Pepsi and Coke, and working for the company that introduced President's Choice sodas might have influenced him.

And buying him his own 'pop fridge' at 19 likely didn't help matters any!

The doctors always assured us as long as we controlled his intake, he would be fine. He wasn't gaining any weight...his sugar and cholesterol levels were normal...and it was certainly safer than beer (right, Johnny?).

Waiting patiently while we get ready to head for the lake!

These days he only drinks 'Zero' (except when we're not looking). I prefer Pepsi...always have...and when I bring it into the house, I have to put it under lock and key. And that's just to keep it away from Diane (too much sugar for a diabetic)! Philip manages to scam one now and then!

In Newfoundland we took him ice fishing. On the cold frozen pond...sitting over the hole bored through 12 inches of solid ice...he had his pop in his hand! Never leave home without it!

In BC, at least where we live, they don't have curb-side recycling. So at the point of purchase we pay a deposit on every case (and every bottle) of pop. Every few months we take the empties to the 'depot' and collect a nice refund...which only goes towards the purchase of MORE POP!

Notice the pop AND pencil in his hand!

Philip takes the recycling of pop cans very seriously...he has for many years. After he finishes his drink, he immediately goes to the sink, rinses out the can, and leaves it in a designated spot on the counter. Just before bedtime he gathers the 'rinsed and dried' empties and takes them out to the garage where he has a large plastic bag waiting. When the bag is full (100 cans...he used to count them...we convinced him 'guestimates'were fine) he ties it up and starts a new one. When 3 to 4 bags are full...we're off to the depot! At 5 cents a can, he does quite well (add a few beer cans...hehehe...and Uncle Adolfo's stash...and he does very well!

"Time for bowling...where's my pop?"

Philip has given a whole new meaning to 'pop culture'...and when he says he loves his pop...he doesn't mean me!

Around ten years ago some dentist decided 'in his wisdom' that Philip (a little short on wisdom) should have his 'wisdoms' removed. ALL 4...ALL AT ONCE! I don't know about you, but I hate dentists...or at least what they do to me! Fortunately Philip's experience with the dental profession has always been good...or maybe his pain tolerance is exceptional...or maybe, according to his mother, he's just more of a man than me! (hmmm...was that a burn?).

Whatever! The appointment to have his wisdom teeth extracted was made...at McMaster Hospital...and for over night. He was still very prone to seizures, and so it wasn't recommended that the procedure take place in the dentist's office.

Now is this the face of someone who cares if he has his wisdom teeth or not?

The big day came! I dropped Diane and Philip off...he was admitted...prepped...'put under'...and the maxillofacial surgeon (you like that, eh?) performed the dental deed without a hitch. Diane was present (except for the actual extractions) at all times. We were very concerned...my cell phone was 'live' all day...I was to show up once he was in recovery.

He 'came to' in recovery and, Diane says, he showed no signs of discomfort or pain (darn...that wasn't a burn!). Once he regained his focus, he noticed a heart monitor next to his bed. He looked at his mom and asked, "Am I going to die?' Diane assured him that was not going to happen. He replied, "But they do on ER!" "Well this isn't ER...you'll be just fine!" He then noticed an IV tube sticking out of his arm and snaking up to a bag hanging over his head. He looked at his mom, quickly covered his arm with his blanket, gave her the biggest smile, and exclaimed with great delight..."Boy is dad going to be surprised!".

I was! To see him awake, alert, and smiling from swollen ear to swollen ear, was indeed a wonderful surprise. We went into this operation with fear and trembling...he came out of it with flying colours!

He came home that day...no overnight needed. Very little discomfort...no complaining...no pain. He's a remarkable young man!

He drank a lot of pop for the next few days. We didn't care!

Oh by the way...the Tooth Fairy showed up...Philip scored big-time!

"I'm ready for you, Johnny!"