Friday, May 11, 2012

Bad Tingles

Isn't it wild how a sentence can take away your breath?

"We're at the doctors with Poppy getting him scanned, because he can't feet his feet and they are blue."

I ask too much of my mother. I get upset with her when I am left out of the loop, and I get upset with her for dropping bombs like that on me when I am trying to peaceably weave my way from home throughout a handful of people that don't deserve feeling in their feet. I'm sorry.

Isn't it funny how just as your lungs contract into tiny hard boxes with a lid forcing it's way over the opening, the air simultaneously turns to gel? I always think that is so strange. Strange funny. Absurdly unexplainable funny.

And later on, when I try to call all reasonable adults in the know, nobody answers. So I go to the source.

"Aly? I'm a very lucky man. I am so happy. The doctor said everything is good. And the blue feet? Those are veins! I'm the happiest man in the world. I will have the girls call you when they are back from downstairs. They are at a building meeting, your mother and my little one."

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