I can’t believe it’s been a year since the Universe roared, pounced, scooped me up in its fat hand, shook me like a rattle, suddenly realized its mistake, and set me gently back down again (shame-faced, muttering apologies, ‘Here, are you hurt, I think you dropped your beer, sorry again.‘)
It’s been one year since my mom was scooped out herself, examined, and cleared. This afternoon she has her one-year follow-up procedure, and I am doing what I do best: worrying obsessively about what is most likely nothing at all.
I mean, even though in the end it was nothing it was still some of the worst nothingness I’ve ever felt, you know? Because really, how much of our reality is what actually happens and how much is how we feel about what happens or could happen or might happen or what? You know??
[sigh]
I am here today to distract myself. You’re stuck with me. Hi.
What should we talk about?
So my blog redesign is almost done — yesterday Pare and I had some drinks, caked on some make-up and took about 800 pictures (just your average Wednesday afternoon) for use in my new blog header and after the shock wore off we got to talking about how much we like it when bloggers relay conversations with their spouses, you know those ones? They are some of my favorite posts, partly for the glimpse into the lives of people I stalk respect, and partly because the conversations generally border on genius.
And so I said to her, I could never do that, even if I wanted to, and she laughed in agreement. And this is why.
****
Me: “Hey hon, how was your day?”
Dave: “………..”
Me: “Don’t forget I’ve got book group tonight.”
Dave: “Brett Favre.”
Me: “Have you seen Gretta’s school supply list?”
Dave: “I saw a deer on the way home but I didn’t shoot it.”
Me: “What should we do this weekend, babe?”
Dave: “Andrew grabbed my butt today — which is totally understandable.”
Me: “Have you given any thought to that birthday party we’re invited to?”
Dave: “I’m gonna go caulk a wall. Maybe a window.”
Me: “What would you like for dinner?”
Dave: “Think I could break our patio table with one chop?”
Me: “You should check out this book I’m reading, it’s so awesome.”
Dave: “Brett Favre.”
****
So you see, I can’t really do those posts, and you’re welcome. [Updated to add: This was not an *actual* conversation with said husband, it's just an example of what one would *probably* look like if I were actually paying attention and documenting it. Thank you.]
(I’m sorry I exposed you in this way hon, you know I’m usually pretty good about not doing that. But today I’m losing my shit (just a tad, nothing to worry about, stay where you are, do not pass Go, do not collect your crazy wife) and I just wanted to babble a bit. Also, I’ve been trying to work Andrew’s name into a blog post for a while now, I know how much you’ll both appreciate that. Hi Andrew. Stay away from my man. I love you.)
(Oh, and mom, I know you said not to freak out and I know you never read my blog (ha!) so you won’t know I broke my word and did you remember to pack that sandwich in your purse? And what are you doing right now, shopping? You’re at the mall or something, right? )
(Oh, and to the rest of you — hi, are you still here? — it’s a good thing I can’t seem to fix that WordPress bug that’s got my entire posts showing up in your feed readers even though I tell it to only show summaries, huh? So that you don’t have to click over here if you don’t want to (like today, hi.) But fair warning, I’m trying to fix that bug, so enjoy it while you can. But for sure you’ll want to click through when my cool new re-design is finished, right Sam?) [Updated to add: So, really, you wouldn't like it if I fixed the bug? Summaries or full feeds, what's the consensus? Anyone?]
Have I mentioned my mom is totally at a spa right now, reading a great book and sipping chardonnay and eating all the food she wants and she is totally not having any kind of follow-up procedure?
[deep sigh take two.]
Awesome post, huh?
You’re welcome.
[Update: Just took the girls to lunch with Katie, then stopped by a local gift shop. The lady behind the counter recognized us and said, "Hi, how's it going? What's your mom doing today?" And I said, "She's having a procedure" and then we turned around and left. I bet my mom doesn't get me a birthday present this year.]
[2nd update: This is officially the worst post I have ever written. Don't feel bad if it isn't here tomorrow, you're not losing your mind.]
[Most important update of all: Just got off the phone with my mom, after a conversation that I have no doubt she will not remember tomorrow -- but the news is good, all good. All good. I must go now and puddle into a melted mass of relief.]
[Final update: I will never, ever figure out Google Adsense (see below). Feel free to click anyway, though. You could probably sell those pictures on eBay....]
