Howdy,
I promise I was not going to write or whine about my back again for the third or fourth consecutive day — I don’t know, they run together. I’m deciding that I’m still not going to write about it.
I’ll find another topic. But …
But when I was driving this afternoon and looked to the backseat and saw Riah sticking his toes in his mouth, in his mouth, like literally sucking on a toe, I thought, Wow, to be young again … (as they say — they being older people, whomever they are …).
And I also thought, I can’t even imagine.
I mean, reaching my foot to my mouth to suck on a toe … not going to happen (and why?). Not with my back. The way it is, or just as a hardened adult. My skeletal structure is much more solid than Riah’s cartilage set of flexible baby bones. Maybe this doesn’t have to be about an injury but about being grown.
Grown, and definitely not enough yoga.
Now, a new topic (though, first, I must say that I’m happy to report I’ve accomplished consecutive days of rehab).
New topic? Not yet. First, again, aka, second, I’ve survived Titus jumping on me a couple of times today, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign I’m on my way to recovery.
Speaking of once and twice, let’s talk potholes.
Or actually one pothole, two times. Thus, pothole(s).
When I was driving home from taking Jasper to school this morning, I hit a pothole in a paved road in Denair that felt like I lost front and back tires and the whole right side of the vehicle.
The kind of dipping slam that makes you grit your mind against potential costly damage: and also makes you wonder why they haven’t fixed the road there yet.
I actually recognized the spot, from a few weeks back. I had noticed the road bubbling up in concrete (asphalt) chunks when it was flooding along the sides and over the country roads. It’s a pit in a driving lane now.
So when I was driving again this afternoon — earlier than when I was driving this afternoon for the foot-sucking — after picking Jasper up and this time with all the kids in the car, I had told myself not to hit that terrible spot again, and I was aware of it and watching for it, as I approached the stretch of road. Well, part road, part tiger trap.
I was watching for it.
Then Jasper passed up a chocolaty mess of a cupcake wrapper, massacred evidence of an end of the school day classroom birthday party. He handed me the mess and asked a question.
I lost track of (my mind) where we were, and smack! hit the same huge pothole for the second time in about six and a half hours.
Just in case I’d dodged that potential costly damage the first time, we took another crack at it.
But the car still rolled along for our second afternoon trip. The one in which Riah showed off without know it. Pretty impressive, Riah sucking on his foot with ease, but I’m not all that jealous, because it’s not like we should do everything our kids do, anyway; otherwise what would I do with the fact that my three-year-old son peed all over the bathroom walls at someone else’s house today?
—Billy
Reading. Writing. Living.
Word Count: 71,625 / On Pace: 71,500 / Year’s Goal: 200,000
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