Thursday, October 13, 2011

glasses

Nick and I were walking back to work this afternoon after our weekly lunch (our usual Chinese again after last week's Bombay Frankie takeout and impromptu picnic in the park next to St. John the Divine due to a water-main break at Columbia Cottage) and I was regaling him with a silly story about yesterday's evening out. It involved one of those ubiquitous moments when you're trying to be calm and collected and cool in a perhaps misguided desire to impress someone, and inevitably end up making an ass of yourself.

This particular moment involved a misty evening walk up and down the High Line abruptly interrupted (and this is where I started gesturing wildly on our post-lunch walk) by a gust of wind blowing hair in my mouth, more hair somehow getting caught in the hinge of my glasses, a moment of gagging on said hair in the mouth, and the aforementioned glasses nearly flying off into the air but for my hair, still caught in them.

It was not, to put it mildly, one of my finer moments. (So much for being impressive.)

But Nick, in the midst of my maniacal gesturing, turned to me and said, straightfaced, "And then did you swallow your glasses?"

My momentary stunned silence eventually became a very eloquent "Huh?," to which he replied, "I'm really hoping this story ends in you swallowing your glasses."

Somehow I completely forgot about this exchange until I got off the train and was walking home.  And then somehow it jumped back into my head as I walked up Fort Washington Avenue in a light October drizzle, and found myself giggling, and giggled the rest of the way home (probably much to my fellow commuters' consternation).

I walked in the door and my boy came over to give me a kiss and I just stood there, straightfaced, until I couldn't hold it anymore, and burst out with a laughingly hysterical, "And then did you swallow your glasses???"

Luckily my boy's patience knows no bounds, and luckily he finds humor (can it possibly be contagious?) in the things I find humorous, and laughed uproariously with me until I was able to calm myself.

1 comment:

Marie said...

In the words of a three (ish?) year old I met this evening, that is so "cuteiful."