Because Mommy needed a lot of cheering up tonight because the furnace currently doesn’t work and it’s COLD here under The Big Top and she is mourning the end of what she thought was a wonderful friendship over the stupid of the last week and the stubborn rage of the offended party and aggravating bullshit of an afternoon conference call today…and this ridiculously stupid run-on sentence, my darling husband and favorite son took me out tonight for margaritas and Mexican food…good, authentic Mexican food. And just as I was finishing the first margarita, Daniel started to choke on the massive, huge, big-as-his-head burrito…like really choking.
OMG, he’s choking!
Always scary. Even scarier when the person choking has a paralyzed vocal cord
As Bill reaches over to help, Daniel is able to cough up the offending piece of food blocking his airway.
I’m okay! I’m okay!
Holding up his hand towards both of us, he makes it clear that he is okay.
He is okay…except for the fear in his eyes as he fights back crying.
Are you sure you’re okay, son?, I implore with the Mom-is-worried-and-scared-and-wants-to-hug-right-now tone.
He tries to look up as he barely whispers that he is okay but he can’t because then he really will lose his shit here in the restaurant.
Come on, Son. Let’s go shoot some pool. Bill pats him on the shoulder as they rise to head to the bar side of the restaurant where the pool table is. Mom can order another margarita while we play a game.
And today’s lesson: Sometimes Mom being concerned mom can only make it worse when you are a teenaged boy. Just let Dad be dad and shoot some pool…as guys do…I guess.
So noted. I’ve got so much more to learn, I imagine.