Thursday, April 23, 2009, 7:28 PM
More than one person has told me I should do a drunk blog post. (Sinners! Sinners!) And so I give you a three-sheets-shaking post.
So far, all I'm really doing is going back to fix all the damn typos. Frick to the oompth.
And yeah, my last post about control was about control, was about control. No commenting allowed on purpose. (Sorry. But Ye Sneakers worked around that, heh, heh, heh.)
When I was young and my toes curled at just the scent of vodka (aka Aqua Net hairspray, it smells the SAME), I used to asked my mom: "Are you lucid?"
And she and Nancy and Nancy (yes, there were two Nancys) would laugh like I was a stand-up comedian feeding them a line. It was probably because it was an unusual occurrence for Oogie to not be lucid. She was all about control. She had to be--she had two hooligans to raise.
Still, it was my favorite question for her, soon as she stepped in the door. I like to make people laugh.
Oogie had another successful surgery today. Stints, balloons, staying flat for six hours. That kind of thing. And she she sounded good. Perky. (But she's being watched by a 22-year-old with a 1-1/2-year old.)
I hate being so far away. The word helpless doesn't even skim the edge. But I'm working towards ending that part of the deal and that's what counts. It's something.