Cysts and Warts and Puppy Dog Tails
On our trip to the midwest this summer we went to our usual for lunch, The Trojan Horse where Stan and I had our first date. As I sat there waiting for my gyro with extra tsatziki sauce, I glanced down at Sean's right hand and was jolted back to my childhood, my second grade year to be exact.
In second grade I had a small cyst on the back of my right hand that zipped up and down when I clenched and unclenched my fist. I found it very impressive and even showed it to this kid on the playground in the hopes that he would find me amazing too. I don't remember that technique working too well with the boys, but anyway, one day my little cyst friend was gone.
There in the dark booth surrounded by the dreamy aroma of seasoned lamb my cyst reappeared on Sean's hand - the exact spot, the exact size, the exact zipping up and down! I guess my expression was ghastly because poor Sean tightened up and grabbed his hand, "What!? Is that bad?!" His eyes widened.
The poor thing. Just a few weeks before we'd discovered that he has little warts between his toes and guess what? Me again. I had to have them cut off as a young child his age. When we found them I reassured him that I would try some simply methods to get them to go awayunlike Mommy's experience of having them cut off with scissors, blood pouring out all over the place, and the doctor wildly impressed by my composure. So when I saw him fearing the little cyst, I quickly assured him, "Oh no! It's perfectly fine! I had one of those when I was your age and I loved it! I used to show everyone on the playground my cool cyst." So the rest of the vacation he showed each and every relative his really cool cyst and it's pretty much his imaginary friend now.
Today Seth and I took Sean to get an ice cream and they know us well there at the store. The lady said to me, "Man, he's just a little version of your husband, isn't he?" I said yes, that I wasn't sure how my husband created that little one without a speck of me in there. Seth drove home. Sean sat in the back seat licking away on his ice cream cone and the little Mommy's boy said thoughtfully, "Mom, I'm a lot like you actually...the warts....the cysts..."
Oh, I don't know which was more hilarious, that comment or the look on the 17 year old's face when he snapped his head around for my reaction.
In second grade I had a small cyst on the back of my right hand that zipped up and down when I clenched and unclenched my fist. I found it very impressive and even showed it to this kid on the playground in the hopes that he would find me amazing too. I don't remember that technique working too well with the boys, but anyway, one day my little cyst friend was gone.
There in the dark booth surrounded by the dreamy aroma of seasoned lamb my cyst reappeared on Sean's hand - the exact spot, the exact size, the exact zipping up and down! I guess my expression was ghastly because poor Sean tightened up and grabbed his hand, "What!? Is that bad?!" His eyes widened.
The poor thing. Just a few weeks before we'd discovered that he has little warts between his toes and guess what? Me again. I had to have them cut off as a young child his age. When we found them I reassured him that I would try some simply methods to get them to go away
Today Seth and I took Sean to get an ice cream and they know us well there at the store. The lady said to me, "Man, he's just a little version of your husband, isn't he?" I said yes, that I wasn't sure how my husband created that little one without a speck of me in there. Seth drove home. Sean sat in the back seat licking away on his ice cream cone and the little Mommy's boy said thoughtfully, "Mom, I'm a lot like you actually...the warts....the cysts..."
Oh, I don't know which was more hilarious, that comment or the look on the 17 year old's face when he snapped his head around for my reaction.
Comments
Great story.