ONE: Geometry is in my blood.
I shit a sphere yesterday.
Yup, you read that correctly. I shit a sphere.
The incident began harmless enough. Having the urge to poop I journeyed to the nearest bathroom, like any of you would have done, so I could get my deuce dance on. (I know, I know. I've said "shit a sphere" and "deuce dance" in the same blog. But stay with me.)
The pain and effort wasn't that big of a surprise, really. I'm used to it because of my habitual lack of fluid consumption.
Dehydration and all.
What was a surprise, however, was the excessive blood on my wet wipe. (Yes, I still use wet wipes.) And, upon further examination of the cause, I came face-to-face with a bigger than baseball-sized turd floating in the toilet.
Thank god it wasn't bigger than softball-sized.
The cause will always be a mystery, I suppose. Perhaps I'm literally internalizing all the recent discussion surrounding my son beginning his early education. After all, geometry is a cornerstone of the Montessori world. Or maybe geometry is just in the genes which, of course, would help explain why math was one of my stronger subjects in school.
Who knows.
I'll tell you what, though, I hope my colon's magical sphere-shaping skills are an aberration.
Because I sure as shit don't want to pass a rhombus or hexagon.
TWO: I'm getting old.
And, no, it's not because I'm shitting geometric shapes.
It's because my frame of reference for common, pop-culture based knowledge is dated. And I'm talking like someone-pegging-their-pant-legs dated.
See.
A female co-worker recently expressed some concern about a potential "stalker" in her life. And, knowing her kids have a total of 4 pet rabbits, I warned her she should heighten security around the house for, you know, the rabbits' sake.
And, instead of nods or giggles, my obvious Fatal Attraction reference was met with blank stares and confusion. It was also met by the following quote from another, much younger, co-worker: "Why? What's the creep gonna do, steal the rabbits to take away all her luck or something?"
Exactly right, young coworker-who-has-no-idea-what-fatal-attraction-is. Exactly right.
Looks like bingo night at the local YMCA just jumped to the top of my social calendar!
