As my penultimate (That’s not a word I get to use often so I’ll take when I can!) posting as substitute GrammaStamper, let me say first that everything is going great. Barb has had her stitches removed this morning and has accomplished some independent walking, simply pushing the walker ahead of her and walking towards it. Again, she sends her thanks for all your support.
I said everything was going great and that’s true … almost everything.
Heather Grow saw it coming. Heather Grow understands the signs of the universe. Heather Grow is a modern Oracle, a sage to be heeded. Upon reading my post about getting chips for Friday, she commented “You might want to have some chocolate on hand too”.
Now, you know I’m a man, knowledgeable in all things technical, the sciences describing the stars and the planets and in the art of numbers. This, however, does not include understanding those amongst you without the “Y” chromosome.
Yesterday, I was given a singular mission: “Seek Ye the Golden Chips; neither stray to discomforting brands nor to distractions of taste or touch.”
This was my quest.
Some of you may know I am disabled and so this quest was dangerous and fraught with peril. I planned my every move, assembled a crack team of my most trusted allies and prepared for my journey. Being a man of action, I commenced immediately following my post and so had not yet read the sage advice of Heather Grow.
I was focused. I conquered the intersections, the hills and the parking lot. I met the challenges and captured the Golden Chips.
So it was said; so it was done.
At the lair of the Golden Chips, ever the thinking man, able to anticipate the unexpected, I also captured the fabled Cheetos and would hold them as a trophy for my troubles, perhaps gaining extra favour with my master for my foresight.
However, during my quest, no one said “perhaps you should get chocolate too”. Perhaps the sentry perceived that I was a man on a mission and not to be trifled with. Perhaps my crew did not recognize the dark omen lurking in the dim light behind the packages of mixed nuts. Perhaps the reason will never be revealed.
Upon returning home, I secured my treasure and, tired after the journey, rested for a time. My crew disbanded and I was again, alone, but contented.
Later, during an audience with the GrammaStamper, I proudly announced my successful acquisition of the Golden Chips, whereupon, her response came as a query: “Did you get chocolate too?”
I felt the heavens open and beheld a vision. The slain heroes of our ancestors were looking down at me, shrugging their shoulders. “Huh?” said one. “Go figure” another said. “Poor guy” said a third. Alas, there were no answers to be found there.
For a fleeting moment, the world was perfect and it was mine. But it is written, “Pride cometh before a fall” and so it is right and just that I make penance for my faux pas. We will have no chocolate when we are reunited. It is as a cart without a wheel; a horse without a saddle; a woman without chocolate.
Woe be my name.
But all is not lost. I will persevere with my studies and meditations on the meaning of the double-X chromosome, striving for the illusive answer to the ultimate question.
And perhaps some day I may find the path to XX-enlightenment … perhaps some day ...