Thursday, February 02, 2006

Picking your nose and adoption

Crazy Train (of thought)

I just saw a commercial for an inflatable back pillow that straps on around your waist. The “actual” patients talking about how wonderful it is are, well, overweight. Wonder if there is a connection between that and their back pain.

It cracks me up that while Meagan and Linley like to call me a loser, they do it while singing to Lynyrd Skynyrd, neither realizing it is my music from my day.

Why does my wife dress Princess in a pink dress? This dog needs a gown for her poopie dance?

Meagan needs to go to the bookstore. She reads voraciously, sometimes two books a week. But she never reads mine. Ironic, ain’t it.

Marital Bliss

My favorite time of the morning is when my alarm goes off. That is when I hit the snooze, turn to my wife and pull her tight against me. For ten wonderful minutes we are snug as spoons, my arm draped around her, my nose in her hair, her hand across my forearm. Sometimes on Saturday and Sunday mornings I hit snooze twice. It’s that good.


Sometimes Meagan and I discuss the strangest things…

“Gross, why do people pick their nose when they’re driving?” she asked, looking out the window at some exec lost in space in his BMW.
“People think they’re alone in the car, but forget they’re really in public.”
“That’s no excuse, it’s just gross.”
“You’ll do it one day, if you haven’t already.”
“No I won’t!”
Just then she turned too sharply out of a parking lot and hit the curb, bouncing the Land Rover hard, sending our takeout tacos flying through the air. My head, resting on my hand, my elbow propped on the door, bounces upward, then down again, and my finger jams up my nose. The guy in the BMW looks at me. It wasn’t funny; I nearly gave myself a lobotomy.

Today’s Rant

Would someone tell Cindy Sheehan that she and Hugo Chavez make a lovely couple, and I encourage her to move to Venezuela as soon as possible to be with him. But please, don’t reproduce.

Book Report

I went into healthcare because I had long had the desire to help people. Over the years as I moved up the ladder I also moved further away from the act of helping. It was a loss to me, something I missed doing. When I first began writing it was to communicate with Meagan, to give her something lasting to remind her I loved her. I didn’t know at the time that my writing would eventually fulfill an old desire. Here is an email I got yesterday…

“My son and daughter-in-law adopted their child just two weeks ago, and tomorrow the new Mom celebrates her 29th birthday. I purchased your book, “Why I Chose You,” a perfect gift for her first birthday as a Mom. When I arrived home I read the entire book, and having adopted our daughter 34 years ago, the emotional impact was powerful. Sometimes it is difficult to explain the depth of emotion that a parent feels for a child, but your book does it beautifully. Our daughter now has children of her own and the joy and wonder she has brought into our lives is beyond description. I expect that one day my daughter-in-law will read this book to her son, and he'll know just how loved he was from the minute he entered our lives.”

When I get these, I save them and read them when I’m having a bad day, or when the Atlanta Journal-Constitution snubs me.

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