Wednesday, April 10, 2013
National Sibling's Day Couldn't Come Quickly Enough
So, let's just say that today wasn't the greatest over here in the land of a moon, worn as if it had been a shell. Let's just say having minor skin surgery on one's back, done by an impossibly young and good-looking Italian dermatologist, was not fun. Let's just say that one lay there, humiliated that the surgeon had no idea, no idea at all, that the back he was digging into had once been quite beautiful and not fat at all. Let's say, too, that these vain thoughts, literally while under the knife, made one feel incredibly small and were entirely ridiculous. Let's also say that finally emptying one's bank account and paying one's property taxes wasn't all that inspirational either. Nor was parking Sophie's stroller and forgetting to put the brake on it, turning one's back and then turning around to see it roll and bump down the two steps and then fall on its side with Sophie in it right into the dirt that never grows grass under the tree. Trying to pull the stroller and Sophie up while wondering whether her arm was broken and whether one's stitches from the minor skin surgery had burst -- no lifting or pulling for three weeks and otherwise taking it easy, the nurse had said -- was, if not par for the course and fuel for fodder, further evidence of the chaotic nature of an unexpected life. The squabbling between The Brothers on the way to baseball practice prompted The Mother to state firmly with no edge of hysteria to her voice that today is not the day to fight in front of me. If you do, I might leave, and then who would take you to baseball practice? The drive to baseball practice was quiet except for the scuffed-up Girl's hums and reaching for beads that hang on the back of The Mother's head-rest. Let's just say that the rather large seizure in the grass in front of the baseball diamond that necessitated a full lie-down and concern on the part of passers-by -- no worries! The Mother reassured those who asked, We're used to it! -- prompted a sort of surrender by The Mother into the shittiness of it all. There was dinner from a drive-through and then a drive home. Let's just say that The Mother realized it was National Sibling's Day at about 7:30 that evening and took the above photo, deciding that things really aren't so bad after all, are they?