I’m sitting here, wondering if I’ll really do this, and for the sake of what – completeness? scientific inquiry? curiosity? – will I lick my mother’s address book?
“You want a taste?” I ask Micah who looks at me like I’m crazy. Poor guy is home with a fever again and can barely get down a bowl of applesauce.
He’s right though with that look he gives me. There is no point to this. The taste of address book doesn’t matter. It would not evoke anything important.
And we’ll lick a lollipop in honor of the family sweet-tooth, passed down by Oma.
Happy Valentine’s Day!