Saturday, November 13, 2010

That Kind Of Day/Part Two

Yesterday was that kind of day. 

Took Claire to the bus stop. Paula, college friend, comes for a visit. Chewy (rescue dog) and Paula meet. It turns out hunky-dory, in spite of my new dog nervousness.

Paula and I meet Michael at his office to walk at the river. First time they've met. We walk. Blue sky, bare trees, leaves crunching underfoot, happy running puppy. Michael climbs on fallen tree jutting out from riverbank. Hear branch snap, turn to see him plunge six feet into cold, shallow water. One of those slow-mo moments. Michael pops up spewing water, face dripping blood, I'm okay, honey, I swear, I'm okay. I take undershirt off to give Michael something for his gushing eye. Paula says, she never could keep her clothes on. Run to get car, Michael strips down to his underwear, he and Paula get acquainted. Chewy sleeps on wet pile of clothes. Michael takes quick shower at home. Drop him off at emergency room.

Paula hits the road. Pick up Claire at bus stop. Bad day at school. She lost special beads that belonged to her Aunt Pamela. Add interaction with not so friendly girls on bus. Quietly mention that Daddy is in the ER. Suggest we get him a helmet for Christmas. 

Went to Claire's school to teach yoga to teachers. Had a hunch I might find her lost beads if I look in the classroom. Ask Steve, the janitor, for help. Find lost beads under teacher's desk. Feel like things are turning around. Hug Steve. Teach yoga class. Lots of deep breathing teachers on yoga mats as sun goes down.

Meanwhile, Teri picks Michael up at hospital. 
"What did she say when she saw you?" I ask him later.
" Oh my God!" he says.

Home to stitched up husband who has veggies and shrimp prepped for his signature shrimp dish. 

Note to self: love a man who cooks. 

6:00 pm. Let Chewy (new dog) meet Owen (old cat) at back door for a sniff. Part of our cat meets dog program. Chewy gets a little excited and chases Owen up a pine tree. Claire and I are crying.

Claire has birthday party @ 6:30. Haven't bought gift yet. Michael climbs ladder to help cat. Cat climbs higher. Holding breath. Insist that Michael get down from there. Exhale when his feet touch the ground. Contemplate calling fire department. Decide against it.

Take Claire to party. Chant, All is well and all is well and all manner of things shall be well, under my breath all the way home from party drop-off.  

Owen is down from tree when I pull in driveway. Weep on front porch while he laps up bowl of contraband milk. Michael cooks. We eat in front of crackling fire. 

In bed by 9:00. Chewy is sleeping. Owen slips in to bedroom and hops on my chest. I am forgiven for the butt-sniffing incident.

Review the day. Mom would've said, just a rough patch.

All is well, and all is well and all manner of things shall be well.

(ps. Michael's new nickname: Rocky Balboa)

1 comment:

  1. Ye-ouch! How's the ol' man doing? Tell him we're glad he's alright, and take it easy o'er the holidays. Love, Brendan & Sara