Spent the week with friends (FutureLawyer and Scientist, and Scientist's 8 month old child) and Amanda's family. There was birthday cake with purple frosting and asti spumante to drink. For the first time in a long time, "Happy Birthday" was sung where it didn't sound like a dirge. It was upbeat and fast and as cheerful as we could make it.
A's mom shoved a card into my hand. It read:
Take comfort in knowing that there is one more angle above us.
I laughed, immediately seeing 'angle' instead of 'angel'.
A's Mom: You know she's hollering for a red pencil, right?
ME: Oh no. She's knocking on doors left and right, demanding to apply to this angle position. "I want to be an angle! They're in everything! Especially a right angle. I could be in buildings, everywhere! I am always right. Not an obtuse angle. That just won't do."
I take comfort in knowing that there is another angle above us.
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2 comments:
I like that you attack a subject from every possible angel.
Heh. Can you imagine, trying to figure out 'hey, what's this guy's angel?'
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