I love Gail Collins. Of course I do. That title is the opening line from her column today. She takes a tour through the last few end-of-times scenarios we’ve been enjoying lately. Maybe ‘enjoying’ is the wrong word, but when the Rapture was nigh, I, along with some rather weird friends, had a Twitter party that night. It was an anonymous account and my, did we have fun. There is a rather lovely quality to an event that will either permanently erase you in a puff of smoke, or won’t, and you can have another G&T and giggle. Oh. G&T. I haven’t had one of those in months. Where’s a good Rapture when I need one?
Ari comes home from school today; I’m on my way up there to get him in a bit. I’m happy, because absence has made both our hearts grow fonder. Well, my heart, his stomach. He just wants to start eating something other than pasta again. He’s been texting over the past few days. “Bring the vacuum please.” “Can you bring a cooler?” “Boxes would be good.” I’m glad I have a big LandRover this week, as I’d imagined having a hard time cramming all his crap into the Elantra, never mind hauling all the other stuff up there. I told him just to throw away his pillows. I think we’ll be throwing away other things, too. A boy in residence is like a stew of ewwww. The good news? He had a great year. Computer engineering scares me. I’m glad I’ll have one of them on my side.
Remember at the bowling alley those machines with the claw and all the stuffed toys? Remember how easy it should have been, but when you snagged a blue bunny you would get it aaaaaaaaaaaaalmost to the little slot and then the claw would mysteriously drop it? I’m sure it was invented by computer engineers to drop it right at that instance. Some little kid sorted out that nonsense, here.
Not only would Ari approve, I think Gail would, too. If the world is gonna end, what better place to be than inside a machine full of toys? That kid wasn’t missing at all. That kid had a plan.