Friday, June 27, 2008
I’ve only been home for a day, and have already tripped on a xylophone. JB left it in front of the laundry room door leading to the garage. I was trudging up the steps with a big garbage bag full of dirty laundry, (what respectable college kid doesn’t come home with dirty laundry? And lots of it for that matter…) so my vision was partially obstructed. There the xylophone was. Here I came. The xylophone didn’t move, but my foot did – right toward it, then down on top of it, which forced my body to move from an upright position to an awkward seated position on the floor, accompanied by the ringing clang of the xylophone. I called out,
“Did you leave this xylophone here?”
“Nope!” He said, his curls bouncing with every shake of his head. “Uh, what’s a xylophone, KK?”
“This” I said, pointing to the bright colored instrument on the floor.
“Oh…” realization crept into his face. “I just, I just, I just think I did KK.”
“KK tripped on it.”
“I’m just pretty sorry about that KK.” He put his arms around my neck. His curly head fit so perfectly on my shoulder – I always take advantage of his hugging moods.
“It’s OK JB, that was kind of funny huh?” The ease in my voice gave him license to giggle, then we both started laughing.
I’m really glad to be home for a while. I love living on my own away from my family, and I think I adjusted pretty well, but when I come back I remember what it means to really share things with people – not to mention the danger of stray xylophones.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Hypothetical situations are sometimes pointless and confusing.
First of all, they always start with “let’s say…” Let’s? Who’s talking? You? No. You’re the one who is being talked to. You’re not saying anything, you’re sitting through a completely “fictitious” situation that is actually completely factual – the names just happen to be different in order that you can provide advice, or most times just a bucket to catch the dumping of gossip somebody wants to give, but feels guilty about unloading.
Let’s say, hypothetically, someone comes up to me and says:
Let’s say I have a friend named Bill. (They don’t have a friend named Bill, but let’s just say they do for the sake of the story.) One day Bill runs into Bob, my friend’s (let’s call her Jane, and of course they don’t actually have a friend named Jane.) hypothetical ex-boyfriend (Jane doesn’t really have an ex-boyfriend, but let’s say she does, for the sake of the story.) They, Bill and Bob, begin talking, and become friends. I find out that Bill and Bob are friends, but Bill doesn’t know who Bob is. Bill and Bob are such good friends now that they do almost everything together. They invite me to hang out with them all the time, but I don’t know if I should because of Bob and Jane’s past. Do you think I should tell Jane that I have been hanging out with Bob? Or that Bill and Bob are friends? Or should I keep it a secret? She’s going to find out eventually anyway.
Doesn’t the person telling me this know that of course I know that Bill is really Erick, that Bob is really Steve, and that Jane is really Jessica? Come on.
In writing this I realize that I just posed a hypothetical in order to poke fun at a hypothetical. A blatant contradiction, yes, but you get my point, right?