With the graciousness of my mother allowing me to “borrow” her upgrade I recently purchased an IPhone 4 for my husband. He has since become obsessed with downloading countless applications. They range from possessing the ability to verbally search for whatever your heart desires to partaking in an intensely invigorating game of pool. One app is titled Bing. It’s a search engine that through verbal commands “finds and organizes the answers you need so you can make faster, more informed decisions.” It’s pretty handy if I do say so. My husband was testing its limits and asking it to search for obscure restaurants half way around the world as well as local hot spots when he propelled the phone in my general direction catching me off guard. He asked me to say something, anything, into the speaker. So doing what any sophisticated lady would do I let the release of gas from my digestive tract do the talking aka I burped. I didn’t expect an official search to ensue but the results proved to be right on target. It produced several listings for,“fat slut.” Sure put me in my place.
Yesterday one of my 4 year old students told me that, “I have to wear clothes outside or else people will think I’m funny.” And when I asked her, “What’s wrong with being funny?” She said, “If people think you’re funny then you will never get a job and won’t be able to go shopping every day.”
Last week my husband found a small lump on his left side. The news sent me reeling into a mixture of fear, reality and reminiscing. After a few sweaty palmed phone calls to Steve’s doctor the lump turned out to be muscle related and not worrisome. But even after receiving the thankfully good news my emotions remained upheaved. And I swear I found more gray strands the following morning. It certainly served as a wake-up call to continue being grateful for the position we’re in today rather than focus on where we “should be” or “would rather be.”
Touché reminders, touché.