Call it writer’s block. Call it sleepiness. Call it whatever, but I have a whole lot of nothing tonight.
Unless you want to hear about my kindergarten conversation in PE this afternoon, which you probably don’t, because it’s frightfully gross.
And when I say frightfully gross, I mean it. It’s uncensored. It’s uncut. And it’s rather disturbing, so really, you may not want to continue reading.
Emma, you see, was missing from kindergarten PE yesterday, because she’d gone home sick, so I gave her a big hug this afternoon and said, “Are you feeling all better, Emma?” And, indeed she was. She was full of smiles. She was full of giggles. She was full of healthy, six-year-old charm.
And then one of her classmates came by, and, having overheard me welcoming Emma back after a sick day at home, he said, “You know, Emma got sick at school yesterday, and she PUKED!” He was so proud to deliver that last word — PUKED. He said it heartily and with gusto, as if he were revealing to me a juicy tidbit of gossip.
Because, let’s face it. Talking about someone who has puked when you’re in kindergarten is about as gossipy as a little fellow can get.
I told him, “I know. I heard. Your teacher told me that she had to go home yesterday, because she threw up at school.”
And this little fellow replied, “Yep. She did. She threw up all over the place, and do you know what was weird about it?”
I walked into it. I took the bait, without even realizing that he’d dangled it in front of my face. “No,” I said. “What was weird about it?”
“Well, most of the puke I’ve seen is always yellow. It’s ALWAYS yellow, unless your mom gives you some red juice to keep you from getting dehibernated, and then it’s red puke. But Emma’s puke wasn’t yellow at all! It was TAN! It was WAY tan, and it was really smooth, without all the big bumps that most puke has in it when it lands on the floor. Isn’t that weird?”
And then he skipped away, because…hello! Scooters! We had scooters out on the gym floor, and who wants to waste time gossiping about puke, when there’s a good scooter to be had?
And, as grossed out as I was in hearing that graphic description, I really wanted to go back to that word dehibernated.
Because it made me smile.
So, people, please. Drink your red juice, or your water, or your whatever, so that you don’t get dehibernated.