“I thought because we had a bad moment, we were going to have a bad day, but we didn’t!”
– L., Age 7
“I thought because we had a bad moment, we were going to have a bad day, but we didn’t!”
– L., Age 7
What follows starts out as something that was actually said to me recently (albeit paraphrased for clarity), and ends with something completely made up to make it even funnier:
Tipsy Fortuneteller: “You have . . . changed your destiny. Remarkable. You were born to be a sociopath . . . a monster, but you have changed that . . .”
Me: “Go home, Mom. You’re drunk.”
People frequently share articles with me concerning the reality of hospitals, and I appreciate that, but I usually end up just nodding my head and moving on because of something my grandmother once told me after she had made numerous hospital visits:
“If you’re not sick before you visit a hospital, you will be afterwards. And if you are sick before you visit, you’re going to be sick from something else as well not long after.”
Now, of course, if you need to go the hospital, then go to the hospital, but my own experiences have proven to my satisfaction the wisdom of her words.
“Alright, people, we’re here to hammer out the details of our reciprocal museum membership program for our respective museums. For our part, if someone is a member of your museum, they’ll have full access to our museum; they just won’t get the complimentary planetarium tickets we provide to our own members.”
“Sounds good to us. And for our part, if someone is a member of your museum, the adults will get in free.”
“‘Adults.'”
“Uh-huh!”
“So . . . if our members come to your children’s museum, the . . . adults get in free.”
“You got it!”
“You have no idea what “reciprocal” means, do you?”
“Not a clue!”
Memory can be a funny thing.
You can know have many years have passed. You can even know that the destination is the “same” only on a technicality since in the intervening time they have moved to a new building in a new location, and you can still find yourself looking for the same hotdog cart that used to be outside the old building all those years ago . . .
Running late today. Lots of things I could write about, some funny . . . some dark. Time to flip a coin.
Heads. Funny (or at least funnier than my darker thoughts today) it is:
L’s Mother: “This is a real page turner!”
Me: “Aw . . . Bettie.”
It started as an unfortunate typo of “Gotcha!” in a friendly business correspondence, but it became “Got’ka!”, which to me sounds like Klingon for “You are insufficiently incorrect for me to kill you . . . this time.”
One of my more useful traits is also one of my most personally distressing. When other people ask things like, “Can you even imagine something like that happening?”, my answer is always “Yes . . . yes, I can.”
Spring to me is without a doubt the prettiest season and the season capable of making me the most miserable.
Funny how often those two traits pair together . . .
And Hate has been driven off by Love, but Hate can never be truly defeated, for when Love falters, Hate . . . shall . . . return!
– Something I overheard my son saying while he was playing the other day