Wednesday, June 6, 2007

I could have told you what I ate, too, but I refrained

I went to Chili's tonight with some friends for dinner. It's funny how when I had money and free time (that affair I was having?) there wasn't much to be done besides discovering new ways to entertain myself with only my left index finger and two nostrils, but NOW! Now my friends come out of the woodwork. Nothing reminds you how exciting life COULD be like an empty bank account. But I went for dinner, courtesy of a Chili's gift card given to me as a birthday gift, and had one of those fun evenings where everyone orders appetizers and milkshakes and sits around laughing and telling stories of how good life is, because our lives are that good.
This is one of those stories. Now, I know anecdotes of other people's adorable children are a quick way to run off readers, because Reader's Digest this is not. But I might as well tell you, there will be days, Tuesday evenings maybe in June, when there truly is nothing better to say. Humor me. You might get a chuckle.
My friend Kim has a four-year-old son named Sebastian. When he was born, I found "Sebastian" to be too much of a mouthful, so the name was abbreviated to Sea-bass, which works for a couple of reasons: not only is it easier to say, but if you've ever seen Dumb and Dumber it makes the kid that much more interesting. So Sea-bass had a goldfish named Brownie that passed away, and he was understandably sad about it. Kim gave him the talk to make him feel better about how Brownie was in Heaven and God was taking care of him now, and then disposed of the body in a respectful and fitting manner. A few days later, Kim and Sea-bass were visiting his Nana's house. Nana, feeling she should say something to the bereaved, asked, "Sebastian, did Brownie go to live with God?"
Sea-bass gives her the disgusted, pitying look of one who must put up with such people. "HUH?" he sputtered.
"GOD DOES NOT LIVE IN THE TOILET!"

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