West Side Story

There are times, incredibly rare times, when I am rendered speechless. As an EMT and just generally low-key ex-Minnesotan, most things do not shock me nor do they even cause me to register much in the way of major emotion. And even in times of great duress I tend to hold it inside, not giving a whole lot of information to the world at large that would indicate that I am flabbergasted, upset, or even just stunned.

So the boys missed me, really missed me. I could tell because my older one just about executed a double leg takedown when he ran in the front door, slammed into me, and hugged me as tightly as one can be hugged. The littler one gives a more fleeting kind of love, like little hugs and kisses, "I missed you, Mom!"s, and attempts to get his hand on a breast. All day today we just hung out, talking and snuggling and looking at pictures from camp.

Apparently while I was gone my elder son developed some kind of soreness in his ass. Maybe because his poops are the size of anacondas, I'm thinking. Anyway, after lunch we were just talking and he dropped his pants, opened his butt cheeks, and had me check it out. It was so casual, yet so abrupt that I was kind of disoriented for a moment. A moment was all it lasted because after the drive-by anusing he was on to something else. Leaving me to ruminate on the nature of motherhood, which for me today involved looking fleetingly into someone else's bunghole. One of those times when it behooves a person to have a solid poker face, I guess.