OH MY GOD! MAN EATS HIS SON'S FINGERS!
April Fools. Haha!
A friend and I were talking today about April Fool's and how much we despise the sort of humor which April 1 seems to inspire. It's so mean. I don't like that sort of humor. Never have. I always hated the Three Stooges and the sight of someone falling on a banana peel offered me nothing to laugh about. Nothing whatsoever.
Humor is an odd thing, isn't it? Sometimes I think that a shared sense of humor is more important to any relationship than a shared belief of religion or politics or circumstances or anything else at all. Do the same things make you laugh? Okay. You can be friends. Or lovers. Or whatever.
I hate it when I crack jokes in a medical office and the practitioner doesn't laugh. I NEED to feel that shared sense of humor to make myself feel a little safer, a little more understood. I crack the joke to dispel my own anxiety and am looking for a tiny bit of human interaction and acceptance as a real, true, living human being, not just a case on a table or in a chair.
They should teach this shit in medical school.
"Laugh heartily at patients' attempts to joke, no matter how lame the attempt."
When I first started experiencing anxiety I noticed that sometimes when I was feeling these, at that time, mysterious and horribly uncomfortable fears and feelings, I could lay down for a little while, fall asleep, and wake up without them. I thought of it as rebooting the mind. I still sometimes use this method to try and break out of them because honestly, once in awhile it helps.
I did that this afternoon.
I had gone to town and had lunch with Lily and Gibson and Magnolia and Jessie and Vergil and August at the Indian buffet and then Lily and I went to Publix and then to Costco and the whole time I felt disassociation which meant that everything which came out of my mouth was judged by a distant me as to whether or not it sounded like something a crazy woman might say or not. I watched as if from above as I drove- was I driving properly? Making the correct choices as to lane and speed and so forth? Was I being and acting and speaking appropriately?
I think I did okay.
While at Costco, Lily stayed in the car and nursed Maggie while Gibson accompanied me in the store and he was so good. So sweet. I put him in the cart seat and looked around the store, everywhere but at him, and whistled a REM song while I tickled him which made him laugh hysterically. And I don't tickle for real. Just tickling-lite because as I child I remember being tickled in ways that felt wrong and extremely uncomfortable. When I tickle, I want the child to beg for more when I stop. And so it was and he sampled cake and sausage and I asked him which he liked the best and he said he liked them both the best and so we had a little discussion about how things can be so very different and yet, we like them equally. Same with people.
Anyway, what the hell was I talking about? Oh yes. Sleep. Rebooting.
After I dropped Lily and darling Maggie and sweet Gibson off at their house I was exhausted and after I made all the trips from car to kitchen and changed my clothes and put everything away, I absolutely had to go lay down.
And so I did and when I woke up, rain had begun to fall and yes, I felt rebooted if not reborn, the anxiety lessened considerably although the mind fog still lingered but it doesn't matter. I am not driving anywhere and I can cook supper under almost any condition and so I am not worried or expending energy wondering if I am acting crazy or not.
Mr. Moon is smoking some pork chops and I'm going to bake some sweet potatoes and we just went and sat on the side of the tub to look at our new babies.
Here's Violet in Mr. Moon's huge hands.
She is as light and as soft as baby's dream.
And so no, Vergil did not eat August's fingers and April Fool's can be enjoyed by all that enjoy that sort of humor and I am thinking of Tom Robbins who said that your mantra can be either "Yuck" or "Yum" and I choose yum, whether we are talking about baby fingers or the softness of baby chickens or the sweetness of falling asleep and waking up in a slightly better place, hearing the rain gently fall.
I remember my friend Lynn and how, when she'd do a shot of rum she would always say, "Yum-rum."
And close her eyes and cherish the taste on her tongue and maybe say, "Whoop Ai Ay!" and I know I have had such amazing teachers in my life and they all, every damn one of them, made me smile.