Two politically incorrect children who are allegedly mine . . .
“OK, so I was riding my bike in the park, you know that one that goes in a big circle through the woods alongside the river?”
“Yeah?”
“And there are all these people walking on the path, and I am all . . . Mother, I think this might be just a walking path . . . and Mother is all . . . We are riding our bikes on it, so guess again.”
“Alright, but it’s a big path. It’s not that hard to pass people.”
“Yeah, except Mother made me ride in front and you know how I get confused about what side to pass on. If the walkers would just stay to the right, I would not have a problem, but when I come up behind people who are wandering all over the path, I get garbled about how to pass them.”
“Just say . . . Passing on the left! . . . that’s what I do.”
“OK, but what if the people you are trying to pass are already way over on the left side of the path for no good reason? Are you supposed to yell at them to walk on the proper side of the path? Are you supposed to ride off into the bushes in order to pass them on the left? Or are you supposed to pass them on the right? Or what?”
“Maj, I don’t usually have that problem.”
“Yes, well . . . turns out blind ladies do not know where the left side of the path is or where to go when a bicycle comes up behind them.”
“You hit a blind lady!!??”
“No, I did not hit a blind lady. Don’t be ridiculous. I scared a blind lady.”
“Whew.”
“Repeatedly . . . maybe 15 times.”
“You scared her 15 times?”
“Did you not hear the part about how the path is a circle? I did the circle 15 times on my bike, and so I passed her 15 times. Every time, I yelled out . . . Passing on your left! . . . and every time, she seemed to think I was gunning for her. Blind people do not lose the ability to leap fearfully into the air, in case you were wondering.”
“Man, I miss all the good stuff.”
“This woman was terrible at being blind. Maybe she was new at it, because she was just all . . . unknowing. I wanted to stop and show her how to locate the right edge of the path with her cane, but that seemed rude. So I just kept coming up behind her and yelling at her and scaring her into blind leaps of terror.”
“What was Mom doing?”
“Riding right behind me . . . pretending nonexistence. . . taking advantage of the path I carved . . . the blind lady never even knew about her.”
“Sometimes I love Mom very much.”
“She is the most annoying woman on the planet, if you ask me.”
“Poor blind lady.”
“Mother says I need a bell.”
“Seriously, I love Mom.”
“It would be a bummer to be blind.”
“Agreed . . . because you would just know deep down your husband was ugly.”
“I know, right? Although there would be advantages to being married to a blind person.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know . . . if Mother was blind, Daddy could have an extra scoop of ice cream and eat chips and walk around in his underwear if he wanted. He could walk around naked! He could pretty much do what he wanted; there would be no one to see.”
“I hope in this imagined Daddy-is-naked-and-eating-extra-snacks-world, you and I are blind as well.”
“Daddy could drink all the beer he wanted!”
“Course, after three beers, even a blind wife would know Daddy had been drinking.”
“What?”
“You know how he gets.”
“What are you talking about?”
I lean in from the other room, because Mark does get flirty after a few beers, but I was not aware this was something the girls had noticed, “Yeah, what are you talking about?”
Kallan giggles, “Mom, he burps. Three beers and he burps.”
Maj agrees, “She’s right, Mother. You could track his movements through the house by his burping.”
I consider, “Like carbonated sonar?”
The girls laugh, and Kallan nods her head, “Ping-burps!”
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
I turn to Maj, “Oh, that reminds me . . . we need to get you a bell for riding your bike.”
“Mother, I don’t need a bell . . . when am I going to run into a blind person again?”
I snicker, “Awkward choice of words, babe.”
Maj huffs, “Fine, but if this bell gets tangled in the spokes and chokes me and flips me over the front of the bicycle, there is going to be some fierce Maj-wrath raining down upon your head, Mother.”
Kallan bursts into helpless laughter, “Maj, Mom doesn’t mean for you to wear a bell on a necklace! She means one of those bells that goes on the handlebars of the bike. You push a little lever to make a dinging sound, and people know to get out of your way.”
Maj is silent for a second, and then, “Oh.”
Kallan is teary with mocking glee.
Maj protests, “I knew that.”
Kallan pretends to put on a heavy necklace, “Look at me! I am belled!”
Maj growls, “Shut up.”
Kallan pantomimes riding her bike around the room and then being flung dramatically forward and to the ground as her bell slips between the bicycle’s spokes and is tangled and pulled.
Maj is furious, “I CAN SEE YOU, YOU KNOW.”
Kallan writhes on the floor in glorious belled agony.
Maj glares at her sister, “I’M NOT BLIND!”
Snort.
