Once summer, my mother and I were at a fair. There was some sort of fund raiser — I forget now what cause it was — and for ten dollars you could hold a baby lion or tiger, and have your picture taken with it.
I wanted to go so bad, and my mother said no, no, it's getting hot, let's not wait in line. I said please, please let me go.
"If I can hold a baby lion, I'll never be sad again," I told her.
Now, here is the part where I was gonna scan in the photo of me holding the baby lion, because what's funny about this story is that I was 38 at the time, and I know it sounds like I was, you know, four. But do you think I can find that DING and also DANG picture? When I packed up to move here, I put the picture in a book. I said to myself (and don't you hate people who say, "I said to myself, 'Self…' " Okay, stop. Stop now.), I said, this is a good idea. The picture won't get crinkled, and I will find it some day when I am rereading this book.
I just spent the last hour, opening every book in this entire house. I have dust up my nose holes, and my legs hurt from squatting. I cannot find that picture ANYWHERE! I did discover that we own a copy of Look Homeward Angel, though, which I have always wanted to read, particularly now that I am in North Carolina.
This is turning into the longest story ever.
My POINT is that holding that baby lion was the happiest moment of my whole life. I know that is a terrible thing to tell you. I should say it was the day I met Marvin Gardens, or the day I got my diploma or the day I got lipo. But no. Really? My wedding day was a wonderful day*, and it's for sure my best day, but as for moments? Holding the baby lion was really it.
I have, however, been sad since then, and my mother has to point out all the time that I promised her if we stood in that hot line to hold that baby lion, I'd never be sad again. Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating a tad. Has my mother ever met me? Geez.
Today, before I exhausted myself looking for that picture, I got home from my pressing four-hour workday, and I got out of my car and went straight to the mailbox, and I am delighted to tell you that NetFlix sent me not one but TWO DVDs of Six Feet Under, with which I am obsessed. It was all I could do not to squeal.
Just then, a red truck pulled into my driveway, and one of the parishioners at church brought me an enormous piece of dark chocolate cake with dark chocolate frosting that his wife had just made. She made him take me over a piece. Wives are wonderful people.
So, I am sorry to report that I had ANOTHER unhealthy eating moment today, which I know isn't very inspirational of me. I promise I will do better tomorrow and I am going to run today right after Miss Lilly time.
But really? Between you, me and all the other people reading this? Sitting there, eating my dark chocolate cake and watching Six Feet Under? Two things I did not know I would be doing when the day began?
Right up there with baby lion day.
*(Perhaps had Marvin actually looked at me when I walked down the aisle on our wedding day, that might have been a nice moment. But seeing as I looked at the back of his HEAD all the way down, no.) (Oh, he is gonna be so happy I brought this up. This is like how every time I meet one of my father's friends, I waste no time telling them how he cut off all my hair when I was two and had my cat put down when I was six.)