...teach me how to be sensible/ logical, responsible, practical/ and they showed me a world where I could be so dependable/ clinical, intellectual, cynical.....
Four days ago:
When Extremely Athletic Sister comes in, talking to herself, except she isn't, she's on the phone, I beckon her to peek in the microwave.
In one of the divided dishes EAS got for meals-on-wheels- esque prepared suppers that we've been doing for her is....dry dog food. In the microwave.
I do not understand this. I do not expect to understand this. What I want right now is for someone else to not understand it with me.
EAS peeks. Her face crumples into a bulldog frown- I've always loved my sister's expressive face- and it tilts to the side a little. She waves arms and hands in a "What is this new madness?" gesture.
Mission accomplished. I am satisfied. I shrug at her and she, still frowning, wanders away, talking, listening.
Yesterday, via text, Extremely Athletic Sister to me:
Discovered why mom puts the dog food in the microwave
And there is a longish pause. For suspense, I guess.
To keep the flies off of it
Aha. Except not really.
Since she keeps dog poo on the porch. And ties the screen door open.
That kind of logic doesn't work here.
Damn straight it doesn't.
Supertramp; The Logical Song