Aaahh, I think our cold snap has finally snapped. For now. It was a balmy 25 degrees this morning at "The Office", and it felt like about 50 after the last couple of days.
Yesterday afternoon, during a blustery 20 degree commute, Meego came walking by the crosswalk on his way home from his bus stop. He was wearing his typical "uniform" of cargo shorts and light pullover.
"Where's your big jacket?", I asked, thinking he must've left it at school.
"At home", he answered while hopping around.
"Well, you're supposed to wear that stuff on days like today. Long pants might help too", sarcastically.
"This morning, the thermometer said thirty-seven degrees", he replied.
"Thirty-sev...?!? This morning it was three POINT seven degrees!", I clarify
Then he did that perplexed look, eyes up and to the left, that says, "hmmm... that's entirely possible".
Sheesh, this from the kid who got the math award last quarter? Oh well, he survived. Meanwhile, it's probably too late to head off the calls the middle school made to Child Protective Services.
In other survival stories, we seemed to have successfully pulled off Operation Wisdom Teeth Liberation for Chaco yesterday. I was cast in the prestigious role of Designated Driver.
They'd said that the entire appointment would last about an hour, and that was surprisingly accurate. Since I was "required" to hang around, I brought my work bag along with the novel I'm currently reading. I pretended to do a bit of work stuff, never cracked open the novel, and mostly just caught up on waiting area Reader's Digest.
After the procedure was finished, I was led to a groggy Chaco who said, "MMF FFFMM MFFFMMMFFM".
"I can't understand a word your saying", I answered.
"FFMMM WWFFMMM FFFMM IFFF FFMMMWFW", he continued.
"I still can't understand a word you're saying", I continued.
"MMMMFF FFMMWWMMM...." and so on...
Eventually, his speaking ability returned. Everything seems to be healing up as expected. We went shopping for "old man food" last night. He's not pleased that the pound cake he was so looking forward to is mostly gone already.
Having never been "under", I asked him about the anesthesia experience.
"AH WOE UH EN..." Oh never mind that, I'll just translate what he sort of said.
He said he remembered waking up in the middle of the procedure and could feel a sensation of one of his teeth being removed. The ceiling tiles (white) were blue. The light was blue. The people standing over him were blue. Then he went back to sleep.
Made me wonder. Were The Smurfs inspired by a drug high?