An Unfortunate Error In Fashion

Some months ago a friend of mine gave me some whimsical socks. They make me laugh every time I wear them, which I'm finding is more and more often as the weather gets colder. I realized I don't have many socks that are this thick or nice, so I find myself wearing them every time they are clean.

A few weeks ago my daughter and I went to the chiropractor and I realized, after I had laid down on the table with hot pads on my back, that I had worn my whimsical socks. This wouldn't normally be an issue, except that at the chiropractor I always take my shoes off, so my socks were in full display for everyone to see as they walked by my table. Just the thought of this made me laugh, that kind of uncontrollable laugh that you know is not appropriate so you try to stifle it, which only makes you laugh more. I probably looked a sight jiggling away on the chiropractic table.

Eventually the doctor came over to adjust me, and I apologized in advance for my socks. He laughed and said, "Don't worry about it, I've seen all kinds of socks here, with toes sticking out and all kinds of things." He clearly thought I was apologizing for the state of my socks, not for their whimsy.

Eventually he made his way down to my feet, saw my socks and then started to chuckle. "Oh!" he said with a laugh, "Now I know why you were apologizing. That is so funny."

Because this is what he was looking at:

Normally they read correctly from left to right, but since I was face down on the table, they were backwards.

Thankfully he had a good laugh about it and I made a mental note to remember not to wear those to the chiropractor again.

I also went out and bought myself some decent winter socks that don't have words.

Felix Felicis, or "Lucky Potion"

My birthday was Friday. I love my birthday every year, it doesn't seem to matter what number it is. I was fed by my company for two of my three meals, and went out to dinner with my Big Sweetie to Murray's steakhouse, established 1948, and in general had an amazing day.

My amazing day continued into Saturday, when I was running errands. And I mean...errands; a whole lot of running around that had built up over the past few weekends. And I noticed something from the very first stop.

Everyone was soooo nice. I had a consult with an orthodontist and they managed to squeeze me in for impressions for a new retainer. I returned flowers to Home Depot and they gave me a full refund for a partially used flat. At the local vinegar and oil store they gave me a 10% discount because they knew I would bring back the bottles. Caribou Coffee gave me my free birthday drink even though it was only supposed to be good on my actual birthday.

Small things all around, but all day long. What could it be?

Was it some leftover birthday glitter? I think so. After all, I had a smile on my face all day. Every person I greeted was with a smile and a pleasant greeting, which was returned in kind. Plus, it was raining all day long, so stores were generally less busy and clerks were happy to take extra time with shoppers.

I thought about all the posts I've read about men telling women to smile, and how insulting and abrasive that is. Yes, I would never like to be told by anyone to smile, unless that person was a speech coach. Yet smiles can make the day so much more pleasant. Everyone I encounter with a smile has one in return.

I guess that's my Felix Felicis, my lucky potion. My way of making a little bit of the world kinder.

A Fart Story

My dad loves fart stories. He has his whole life -- he has never outgrown the idea that fart are absolutely hilarious. This trait may have been passed on to his daughters.

The other day, when dad was having a particularly bad day from the side effects of chemo, I told him the following story:

Last weekend we had our first fire in the fire place for the season. We don't know if Beauty's ever been around a fire, and she seemed quite anxious. We were accustomed to our sweet dog Dax, whose dog bed was perennially placed right in front of the fireplace, where he could be warm and cozy when a fire was roaring.

Beauty, on the other hand, was quite concerned about the fire. She did not want to go near it, even into her cozy dog bed. We pulled her bed several feet into the room, then throughout the course of the evening pulled it closer and closer to the fire, until she was finally right in front of the fire grate.

She snuggled down and seemed content.

But then we learned she was not.

I was sitting in a chair right next to the fireplace, and let out quite an audible fart.

At the sound, Beauty leapt up like something bit her, her tail down, ears back. She glanced back at the fire, then scurried up the stairs.  She spent the rest of the evening sleeping on Lindsey's bed.

Clearly she believed my gas was from that ominous fire. We all laughed uproariously. Tears rolled down our cheeks and we clutched our guts in laughter.

I told this story to my dad, and he responded in kind: He dropped the phone in laughter. It was perfect. Clearly the best remedy for a day when he wasn't feeling his greatest.

I think I'll hold on to all my fart stories until the days he's not feeling well.