Lickers vs. Non-lickers

Today, LookyDaddy wondered aloud (that's what I think Twitter is, basically) if people have tried licking a 9 volt battery. It seemed unfathomable to me that there exists in this world a person who hasn't licked a 9 volt battery. So, I responded with the following: Eventually, lists were created: lickers and non-lickers.

This reminded me of the something that happened to a friend of mine awhile back and by "friend" I, of course, mean me. I was sitting in my car and, as I was getting ready to connect my iPod to the iTrip (plugged into the cigarette lighter thingamabob), it slipped from my hand and into my coffee. I couldn't connect it to my iPod covered in coffee. So, I instinctually put it into my mouth. I licked it. I sucked it. I shocked the hell out of my tongue.

Tonight, Luisa and I were talking about this and she was arguing that no one would put the live end of an iTrip into his or her mouth. I think she knows nothing about human nature and I think she might be a tad jealous of my level head in a crisis. So, I said I was going to turn it over to the fine readers of this blog.

1)Are you a 9 volt licker or no?

2)How would you have handled the Great iTrip Crisis of 2009?

Oink

Do you know how to guarantee that one of your children will be struck by illness? You plan to spend the day alone with your partner while the children are at school. This is fail-proof. Or a superpower that Luisa and I have. Veteran's Day is the one day a year that we both thank our lucky stars for being public servants. Both of us have the day off but the kids have school. So, we had planned to go shopping for clothes today...because we haven't really bought clothes since our children were born and are basically wandering the streets of Minneapolis in tatters. Zeca woke up saying she didn't feel well but she had no temperature so we sent her on to school. We then went shopping. Luisa bought some jeans and then headed to Best Buy where Luisa kicked my ass at Wii ping pong. Then, we went to the Mall of Shame and, just as we were perusing some lovely PJ's at Hanna Andersson, Luisa's phone rang - Zeca had a fever. That was it. We picked her up and hauled her into the doctor's office where she was diagnosed with H1N1. She spent the afternoon on the couch moaning and throwing up raisins. Too much information? Perhaps. I did want to share one little nugget. In our brief time at the mall, I saw the following t-shirt at the Barbie store (Yes, Barbie store - don't even get me started):

The shirt reads: "Everyone needs a Ken!" I'm always impressed with t-shirts slogans that can offend hets and lesbos alike.

Friends

Recently, I was listening to Brandi Carlile's song "That Year" which she wrote about a friend of hers who killed himself when they were 16. The song is a beautiful tribute to friendship but also to accountability between friends. The more I listened to it, the more I thought about my own friends. I have close friends who have known me since I was 18 and still see me regularly. They knew me when I had an enormous perm, when I wore penny loafers and a shirt covered in ducks. What they know about me goes beyond the changes in my physical appearance and style. They have known me long enough to see and experience all of the versions of me there have been over the past 23 years and I know them in the same ways. There is something comforting about friendships that stand the test of time. Old friends keep you humble - they can always dig up an embarrassing picture from the past or an equally embarrassing story. But you can also look into their eyes and know that you are seen in all of your complexity. You can make mistakes. You can take humor too far. You can forget something important or fail to comfort your friend when they need it most. None of us are without fault and, sometimes, the best we can do is to accept responsibility for what we've done. Old friends know that your imperfections are nothing compared to the rest of who your are. It's faith earned.

To all my old friends who read this, I love you.

Oh...and if you don't comment, I'll find an embarrassing picture of you to post because my love knows no bounds.