Saturday, June 27, 2015

There's lots of different kinds of medications.

Ok. I know. I know. I promised that today I'd deliver to y'all a pithy post just jam packed with serious autoimmune STUFF. But sorry, folks. Not gonna happen, at least not in the way that I had originally intended. But still I think I've included information in this post which is good for your health. Here's why:

So I was putzing slowly around my grocery store (after my docs gave me the approval to "do what you can and when it hurts, stop") in happy anticipation of my two great-nephews coming to visit. I was debating what sort of treats these two young gentlemen might like and thought a small package of mini cupcakes decorated with bright red white and blue sprinkles might be a good choice. After probably driving the bakery department staff bonkers because I unstacked all of the plastic containers to make certain that I got the VERY BEST box; and at the very moment I plopped the perfect pastries into my cart, I heard a loud and stern, "DON'T EAT THAT!" directly behind my head.


I whipped around indignantly; shocked - yes shocked - that anyone would make such a judgmental comment to a perfect stranger. I mean, yes, I was fully aware that I didn't need that fat and sugar as a person who obviously was hefting around some extra pounds, but what I eat is my business, and mine alone! I had my big old blabber mouth open and ready to fire some kind of cranky response something along the lines of WHAT THE HELL??! but fate or my guardian angel or the universe or whatever thankfully intervened before I could say anything.

Because after I was fully turned around, I saw a young dad frantically prying a bag of carrots out of his baby's mouth as she was enthusiastically gnawing plastic and carrots. The package was trashed. Shredded.

She was adorable. Brought back memories of when my son used to chomp on a chunk of cheese before I could pay for it at the store (Remember when blocks of cheese were sealed in red wax?) and I'd yank it out of his mouth and then he'd smile at me with waxy and cheesy little teeth and then I'd have to stop right in the checkout line and smooch his little cheeks right up one side and down the other.


When I realized what was actually happening, I told the dad, "I thought you were talking to ME!" after which I began to laugh, and the daddy began to chortle, and the mommy was giggling and best of all - the baby girl began to laugh from her toes right up to her eyeballs, in the way that only babies can. Before long every person within earshot of us in that crowded store was smiling.

It was awesome. I'm still grinning.

Now go out and make a baby belly laugh. Because THAT, people, is the best medicine there is.

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