Monday, January 26, 2009

You will have a String of Good Luck


We recently dined at the Wok About Grill, a pretty cool restaurant in Wenatchee. It's a stir-fry salad bar that gets stirred and fried on a large drum. Fortune Cookies end the meal. Coyote's fortune, "You will have a string of good luck." In the weeks since then, he's spent a lot of time wondering just what the string will look like. How long will it be? What color?

Good news. He found it yesterday. It's apparently gold. But I had to tell him that strings of good luck become strings of bad luck if you wear them to bed. It's no mystery to me where superstitions come from: moms. Umbrellas really ARE bad luck to open inside!

Then I had a stupid idea to make our own fortune cookies because today is Chinese New Year, year of the OX! We made up our fortunes. Coyote contributed, "You will have a string of good luck." But fortune cookies are a demented invention. I had a 25% success rate, which is not an improvement, I now remember, over the last time I made fortune cookies 20 years ago. Only a few turned out. For dessert last night, Coyote wanted to pick out "his" fortune. I didn't even know if it was one of the 10 (out of a batch of supposedly 40) that made it into one of the misshapen crumples of varying shades of brown. Finally we convinced him to just PICK ONE ALREADY! And guess what he got! Another string of good luck. He's wondering what color this new one will be. I got, "You will soon grow a fully prehensile tale." I can't complain. I typed it myself. Under Huck's dictation, of course. It obviously means only one thing: Bone spurs. I'm sure I can feel them growing on my coccyx now, even as I type.

Coyote's string of good luck could also be interpreted at his new Karate belt. He's now a Yellow Stripe! Blue's a Black Stripe.

His string of good luck, as I understand such strings, might also include a new girlfriend. He's been bragging about her for a while now. So I thought I'd ask him some questions. How do you know she's your girlfriend? "Well, we were standing in line to wash our hands and I poked her in the back with my finger. Just like that." And so now she's your girlfriend? (incredulously) "Yep!!"

Well. Huh.

After being attached for 9 years to one guy, and bearing one son, I wonder how it is possible that men and women can even procreate together. Men seem like such a different species. With such a different understanding of the world. And relationships.

Another example: Coyote keeps asking me to marry him. I keep explaining the problems with that to him. But he keeps asking. Now he's asking, "Mom, if we were the same age and you weren't my mom, would you marry me?"
Me: "Coyote, some day you will find a wonderful woman to marry, if you want to."
C: "But would you marry me?"
Me: "Fine. Of course, I would. You're a really great guy."
C: "You would?"
Me: "Go play basketball, Oedipus."

At the library recently, Coyote and I experienced some mid-sized city library "people." You know, library people. They were doing something funny in the bathroom while we were trying to do normal things in the bathroom, like urinate. I ran in to a friend who's an administrator there and informed her that some funky thing was going on in the bathroom but I understood that lots of city libraries had these problems. I didn't regale her with my PTSD from the Seattle downtown library years ago, the gauntlet I had to walk through of homeless men looking at porn while I tried to find a book I wanted, and I never returned to that library. Her response was typical, "Libraries are for EVERYONE." "Yes," I said, "Even mom's with kids that need to use the bathroom for LEGAL reasons." GOLLY! Is shooting up in the bathroom really what Carnegie or tax payers had in mind? And why does a homeless guy's need to look a porn trump my feelings of safety as I find a book? Homeless people are people. I understand. I've worked in Disability law where we try to help people that are in similar situations. And yet, ain't I a human too? I am a citizen of as well. And I like to feel safe. It's a very natural and legitimate need. I know it's a complicated problem, not easily fixed and somewhat minor, in the GRAND SCOPE of it all.

However, scary people mis-using the library bathroom aren't the only thing I found this week. I also found tomatoes, tasty ones, grown without pesticides, just down the road in George. And it's January.

I hope anyone reading this has a string of good luck in this YEAR OF THE OX, and finds locally grown tomatoes in January.

P.S.: Photo is of Coyote at 1.5 years. By edict of my mother, I am being forced to upload, organize, and print my photos. I'm up to 2005!

1 comment:

  1. I have always wanted a fully prehensile tale -- just imagine the possibilities!

    ReplyDelete

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