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They might laugh, but then they change their tune….part 1 of 2

My first forays to actually drive my car, following my 4-wheeling accident, were a week and a half later. I have to pick my right leg up with my hands and put my leg into the car, really carefully to avoid the shooting pain up my back. Not sure whether this is related to the broken ribs, the kidney bruise, or the soft-tissue damage.

So all four of those days, my excursion involved driving to Tennyson’s baseball tournament 10 miles from home, with a stop at Good Earth. This was a big nothing before, and is now rather grueling. Still, I’m so blessed I can walk and drive. And I intend to join a mixed doubles tennis team on July 29. (Power of positive thinking!)

You have to understand how odd my kid is. Tennyson’s coach’s family told me this story, just this week.

Ten and his friends play a game where you get a point for spotting a yellow car and yelling, “Bingo!” You wipe out everyone else’s points if you’re fortunate and quick enough to be the first to notice a yellow truck and yell, “Bingo flush!”

I wrote last fall about a freeway accident Tennyson was in on the way to a baseball game. Tennyson was fine, but two family members of Tennyson’s teammate, Dallin, are still receiving medical care related to their injuries in that accident. A car skidded out of control and smashed into the car in front, which hit the Earls’ car, which hit a car in front. In total, a half-dozen smashed cars spun to a sickening stillness. The Earls’ car was totaled and the scrambled eggs Dallin was eating would be found in both the car in front and the car behind. All of the windows were shattered and everyone was covered with glass. Some occupants of Tennyson’s car, all in seatbelts, hit the seats or consoles in front of them.

No one spoke for many seconds. The first one to break the shocked quiet was Tennyson.

Apparently he spotted a yellow truck. He shouted: “BINGO FLUSH!”

I tell you that story not only because I just learned about it this week, but so you “get” my kid a little to understand the next story.

So every day this week, at my little jaunts to the Good Earth on the way to the baseball tournament where today is the championship game, I buy Tennyson a giant Naked juice. (The kind with spirulina and chlorella, good stuff though it’s too much fruit for my taste, and pasteurized…..awww, now I’m being just picky. Not as good as a green smoothie but good.)

He scampers around the dugout showing his brand-name drink, going, “Hey guys, my mom got Naked!” over and over, causing his teammates to look rather stricken. (He’s 10 years old. What can I say.) The third day he performs this little ritual and then mutters to himself, “That’s gettin’ old.”

(Whew. Just when I was worried about his social perception skills.)

Also I buy him a Raw Melissa whole-grain veggie sandwich, or a sprouted-wheat veggie wrap, and a bag of baby carrots.

[the rest of this story tomorrow]

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