Fart machine or whoopie cushion?

Today was the first day of school for Monkey Man at his new school. We elected to send him to the center-based gifted program that our county provides, despite the fact that he was going to have to change schools. On one hand, I am excited because he will get a much broader exposure to school subjects than the regular curriculum. On the other hand, any kind of change that involves his education makes me weak in the knees.

So far, so good. His biggest complaint was that the cafeteria was out of ketchup and he had to eat his cheeseburger without any. The horrors!

*****

I left home this morning feeling pretty good about things - new blouse, new bracelet (a very un-office-like bracelet covered in purple shiny stones), and hopes that Tuesday (or Monday, Part II - The Revenge) wouldn't be quite so bad. At one point while I was in Starbucks with every other human in the county, Joey called and left me a voice mail. I got back in the car and called him back without even checking the voice mail...then decided it would be a good idea to actually check my voice mail since I'd been pretty much ignoring everyone who calls me lately.

First message - Joey. Second message - hangup. Third message - Diana, my friend since third grade calling to check on me. I got kind of teary-eyed listening. Fourth message - Joey again. Okay, that was done...oh wait, there are eight saved messages?

I zipped through all until I got to number six.

"Hello Liz, it's Dad. Just calling to check in, just got back from physical therapy and wanted to let you know everything is going okay. Talk to you later. Bye."

I carefully saved it, then almost ran up on the curb since I was blinded by hot tears.

*****

I spent the rest of my work day moving piles around on my desk and surfing the internet looking for...well, I don't know. I think between the shock of the voice mail and the nerves of the first day of school, my brain went on total overload and decided it would be way more fun to just do nothing. Maybe have a Malibu and pineapple, but they frown on that at work.

I've always thought of myself as a fairly resilient person. Never one to get down for long, I try to find humor in the darkest times. I was the court jester of the nursing home, making the other patients and nurses laugh and trying to keep my dad smiling. I pulled out all the stops, just short of using a fart machine. I didn't think my mother would find that very amusing at all, since she always claimed my dad was the human equivalent of one.

The fart machine could really come in handy right now. The wind is out of my sails today.