My friends, in this life, some days are better than others.
In the case of Bridgette and I, Thursday through Monday more or less reeked of fetid goat drippings. Life has a funny way of rebounding, though. Little, unexpected blessings pop out of the woodwork, like delicious taffy from heaven.
Last night, I was chatting with a friend of mine, and they relayed a story to me. Apparently when this person was a child, they really wanted a goldfish. Their parents, however, were not sympathetic toward this child’s simple, beautiful wish. Undaunted, the child would clip their overgrown, dirty toenails and deposit them in a baggie filled with water. Then, with a pure, childlike exuberance, they would shake the baggie about and pretend that the inanimate toenail clippings were the goldfish they yearned for so desperately.
That, my friends, is the kind of messed-up tale of childhood emotional scarring this blog is built around. It’s the kind of story that heals your heart and strengthens your sternum. In the end, its power lies in its nature as an odd, disquieting microcosm of life’s unfulfilled wishes.
Enjoy your Tuesday, everybody!