Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Iron Maiden, indeed

Sick again. Such is the price for spending time with small children. Cameron and I visit the play center at the local mall and this little germ-harboring area is sponsored by a local hospital  and the sliding board has giant broccoli stalks for sides and there's a TV screen that plays non-stop pictures of skin cancer moles, a great pre-lunch place.

My bug claims me and I fall asleep in front of my laptop after losing a succession of solitaire games.  My niece, a college freshman, has beat me repeatedly at facebook Family Feud for the last two weeks  and I had been the champion and I need to win at something and this won't be it.

 I swear I smell a lilac-scented cologne.  Hello Mom, I say to no one. And then a key in the  door  and it is my father, bringing a load of Des Moines Register sports pages for the cowboy.
I'm sick, I moan.  "You can't be sick," he says, "you're the Iron Maiden."  Iron Maiden, I like that, perchance my next password.
"Are we still going out to eat tomorrow?" he asks in a worried tone.  "Is it okay if I bring Cathy along? I think everybody should be getting to know her. Dave should meet her," he asks.  Groan, Miss Cathy.  Damn, I need to be well for this, I need to be doing cartwheels down the sidewalk.  I don't want to disappoint my father, so, I go. And actually, I want to go. I am curious.

2 comments:

MrDaveyGie said...

WoW, "everybody should be getting to know her"
and Ummmm why???? frankly I'm not interested.

But I digress so easily from what I was going to say. What I was going to say you may have brought into the United States the Jamaican Crud, and the infectious bacteria is now multiplying. You must be quarantined imedidately.

Lorflor said...

Lol, I am curious too.