This Week's Very Short Story: Chapter 8

This Week's Very Short Story: Chapter 8

In college, I bought a police style winter jacket because I noticed the police would be out in the cold directing traffic and they did not appear to be cold.  Today I would not wear it for fear that it might have a target on it and anyway, it would not fit.  

I called home and told my wife that I was going to stop at Trader Joe’s on the way home.  She says to bring her home a “goodie”, that she needs a “goodie”.   I answered that I am coming home, she laughed. 

  

On those television shows that help people pick a house to buy or fix up, I hear them talk about mud rooms.  That would have been any room that I was in when I was very young. 

   

Both of my younger brothers went to Camp Tamarack.  I went to Detroit Recreational Camp for one week.  It was the week from hell like in the Alan Sherman song, “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah”, except that the sun never came out.   Never did I go to overnight camp again; instead I went to day camp where I met people that I am still friends with today. 

  

My son went from Sesame Street to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles right to sports…. So glad I was spared Barney.

After my first year in medical school, I went home and got married.  The next year I studied less and got better grades.  Coincidence? 

At the end of my first year in medical school in San Francisco 10 to 12 classmates went home and were married on the first weekend.  I was one of them. 

One of my sayings when I was in college when people wanted to be somewhere else was, “things could be worse, you could be in bed sleeping”.  It has come to have a different meaning as I get older. 

I don’t always remember people’s names… so if I happen to start to lose it, people may not be able to know the difference.  

I have always preferred brunettes to blondes.  I can’t decide whether this is because my mother had long black hair or my early baby sitters did.  I will leave that discussion to the psychiatrists and psychologists.

Later in life I found out that a few of my baby sitters were not that much older than I was.  The reason could be that they were so mature or I was so immature.  Probably both. 

One day when I was leaving work, another employee replied to me that the best time of the day is when she was leaving work.  My thought is that the best time of the day is when you wake up in the morning.