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A Delicate Matter


Beauty in the day: Quite some time ago, my youngest called me from her temporary home in Iowa to mention that one piece of my delicates had inadvertently gotten packed with her things. We had a good laugh about that. I am traveling there tomorrow to see that youngest baby and her husband. She called to check in a few items, and we chatted. “So, are you all packed yet?”
“No! I need to get cracking!”
“Well,” she advised, “you’re only coming coming for a few days, and I already have a pair of your panties here.”

She has always had that odd sense of humor. I would say she got it from her father, but I get a crick in my neck when I watch for lightening bolts.
😬⚡️

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Pinkabella

Beauty in the day: she came in near the end of the day, Miss I-Have-Been-Here-All-Day-And-Am-Just-Now-Coming-Down-With-“Something”. I took her temperature. Nope. We did the usual – lay down for a bit – try going to the bathroom – have a drink of water.
“Well school is out in 25 minutes, so perhaps you should just go back to class and get ready.”
She thought not. “I really think I should just stay here in the clinic until school is out.”
Fine. Boring, but okay.
She came out of the clinic. “How many more minutes until school is out?”
“20 more minutes.” She went back in.
She tiptoed out again. “How many more minutes now?”
“17.” She retreated.
But then emerged again. “How many more minutes?”
“8 more.” She sighed. And returned.
Now she came out with a determined look. “How many more minutes?”
I looked. “4,” I told her. She maintained a serious, level gaze. And went back again. I didn’t see her after the bell rang – except for the pink blur.