For Laughs

Then My Mother Said…

As you can probably imagine, getting ready for my mission is taking up all of my life right now. There is an insane amount of work to do, and the other day I had to get a wisdom tooth pulled (I got the others out a long time ago, but I had an extra one…anyway, that’s a different dumb story.) Suffice it to say, it was terrible. There were misinformed doctors, a tooth that was hidden inside my bone, a very deep hole, a lot of blood, emergency rushing to a surgeon…and well, you know. That kind of stuff. So the past few days I’ve been out for the count. And now that I’ve written this paragraph, I remember that it doesn’t have a lot to do with the story I was going to tell you in the first place. So, there’s that.

So, besides all of that, my poor nephew is going through a tough time. You see, he has always sucked his thumb, and now that he’s four, his parents decided it was time for him to stop. Personally, I think that they should’ve taken action a long time ago, but I’m not his parent so my opinion doesn’t count. Anyway, they’ve tried everything under the sun and since none of it has worked, he now has a small blue cast on his hand that covers his thumb. And let me tell you, the poor kid is suffering!

It’s like withdrawals, here! Seriously. He’s tried absolutely everything. He tried sucking his other thumb and that wasn’t satisfying, he’s tried to cut the thumb part off with various tools, and of course that hasn’t worked. He’s having a hard time sleeping and he’s uptight and, well… it’s just been a rough road for the poor kid. He has been doing a little better the past few days, but it’s been pretty hard.

As I was sitting on the couch with my mom listening to her talk about this, because I can’t really speak very well at the moment, I was reminded of something that I have been rather worried about recently. So I said, in the most understandable way possible, “Mom, I’m probably going to have Frank withdrawals.”

Of course I expected her to say something encouraging like, “No, I think you’ll be fine.” Or, “Don’t worry, you’ll be great.” But no.

07abd2c1be5e8f8eb32430e21e61f457Then my mother said, “Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing. You’ll probably have a harder time with that than anything else.” I guess there were multiple ways I could’ve taken that, and in the split second that I was contemplating all of them, I realized something: she is probably right. So I did the “okay, fine, you’re right” shrug and put the ice back on my face.

But she wasn’t done, she started talking about how it’s probably time to start weaning myself off of Frank and then some of the grandchildren arrived and we didn’t finish that conversation. Which I was okay with because, let’s face it: that’s blasphemy. And it isn’t going to happen around here.


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