Subject: Crinoline Crush
Date: 27 Oct 1998 00:00:00 GMT
From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Mumthra)
Organization: MotPU: Where Binary Moodswings are ALWAYS on the Menu
"Econoline Crush" is a better band name, sure, but that is what I
THOUGHT I heard, so therefore I like it better.
How's stream of consciousness? Okay? Okay.
We just returned from another lunchtime with Lulu. I am STILL laughing
about the last trip. She's a pathologically compulsive housekeeper,
although she swears she trying to resist the call of the vacuum.
Anyway, that's why I experienced one of my worst ever instants of
abject shame in her kitchen last time.
She fixed us each a bowl of ramen noodles, and then called me away
from the babies to inhale my portion of our overdue lunch. The packet
of sticky flavor pellets was lying on the counter next to my bowl, so
naturally I shook it. Because she had already cut it open, naturally a
fine spray of artificial seasoning deposited on every single surface
within a three foot radius of my right hand. I'd a lahk to DIE!
Colored salt and MSG and flecks of greenish whatsit covered her
counter, her perfectly aligned canisters, her pristine white microwave
and her telephone.
I picked up the phone and held it over the sink and blew on it.
Nothing happened. It was as if some disturbed finger printer had
dusted from a very wrong jar. She watched all this without a twitch,
while I cackled and failed in my attempts to clean it. I really wanted
to make her kitchen right again, but I think we both know my
limitations well enough, so she shooed me away. I just wished that I'd
managed to do that to someone I dislike.
This morning was oddly orderly, even though it was Sharing Day, Orange
Day and Bring a Pound of Celery Day. Somehow everyone got deposited on
time with all their gear. I was the Daylight Savings Time Hero at the
preschool by fixing the class clock, which the teacher had attacked
too forcefully while trying to change the time. She knocked the hands
completely off, and being a pathologically compulsive clockwatcher,
she was in real distress. Even though she is a truly twitchy presence,
I still felt that weird urge to please that all the best preschool
teachers foster. Once I had the thing set and reassembled, I was just
as proud as if I'd had a big smiley face stamped on my hand for the