Bit of a rocky week here, but who has time for that, so suffice it to say I had a sinfully delicious one-hour pedi today administered by a new young friend who makes me extra glad I’m alive. I’m now wearing My Chihuahua Bites on my toes and you can’t touch this.
And after lunch, which I had no time to eat, I saw my surgeon. As in eye surgeon. As in he’s finishing the graft on the 22nd, YAY! And if I celebrate more right now I’ll cry. Again. Some more. But from relief and happiness in this case.
So, not a bad day — which none of them are if you wake up breathing and make it through to the night-time bedgasm. Not being naughty, it just feels so amazing to lie down on cool sheets and drift off while Kim rubs my back and spins goofy stories. Even when life feels like it’s crushing the life out of you it’s pretty damn good.
And it’s Throwback Thursday, so here’s Baby Me before all the blistering sunburns which no doubt fomented the nasty little carcinoma. And don’t we all, when we feel like crying till we can’t cry anymore, wish we could see our moms again and hug it out? It isn’t about cancer, nor about looking wonky for at least three more weeks, not at all. Small potatoes. For the bigger spuds the week unearthed, my mom’s cool hands and soft voice and pillowy lips would help heal a lot of hurts. So if your mom’s within hugging distance don’t waste opportunities, please.
I have to tell you that my grandparents would not appreciate seeing their house-in-need-of-paint preserved for posterity. But life will rip your shorts off if you’re not paying attention, so we’ll call that one small potatoes, too.