LESSON ON A HOT DAY
Sarah dragged through the front door exhausted and spent from the long day the first few weeks a new school year brought. It was early September, warmer than usual for this time of year and she was abysmally hot given the new body temperature she had recently been awarded through menopause. Wilted from the drive home she tossed her book bag on the floor and headed for the kitchen and ice water. A cool shower would follow.
Opening the refrigerator she caught voices from somewhere in the house. Sarah knew Kane usually beat her home generally accompanied by one or more of his eating machine buddies. These emerging men appeared to have exclusive access to the, "I'm weak from not eating the last thirty minutes" market. Their ability to consume in volumes gave her pause and was the source of an internal battle as to how much "food freedom" her household could manage. In the end, Sarah surrendered and decided it was more valuable to know where the kids were than how much they were eating. She lingered momentarily in the kitchen before wandering toward the voices. She felt much too tired to be involved in the sarcastic and often cynical banter in which these teenaged creatures loved to engage and which she, so vulnerable from sheer fatigue at the moment, wanted to avoid. A simple, "Hi mom, how's it going?" would be welcome. She craved quiet, a shower and a short nap before attacking the evening. She headed off reluctantly toward the voices.
She found them both in the bathroom staring intently into the basin of the toilet. Sarah carried in her a strong belief in the power of thought. Given this understanding, it appeared these two boys were engaged in a moment of conjuring. If levitation were possible they were close to raising something from the depths of the toilet.
"Kane, what seems to be going on?" she asked peering into the basin with them. She was grateful to see only clear, unsullied water. In the nano-seconds that elapsed between her question and the realization the problem involved a toilet, hundreds of possibilities and corresponding images had surfaced
"Mom, Jeremy's pager just flushed down the toilet," said Kane. Sarah stood there trying to take in what had just happened, then quickly reached into the basin hopeful she could retrieve the drowned beeper. Nothing!
"Did either of you try grabbing it before it flushed?" she demanded. Two heads whipped up, as both boys stared at her in astonishment, appalled looks of incredulity on their faces. Sarah shook her head in frustration and walked out of the bathroom muttering. What evolutionary flaw prevents men from reaching in toilets she raged silently. Any woman I know would have stuck her hand in that darn john without hesitation. It would have been an automatic response. I wonder how much this one is going to cost? Damn, I hate boys, nah the entire gender at times. She headed wearily towards her bedroom and threw herself across the bed. She was drained, angry?and had she really been home only 10 minutes? Closing her eyes she allowed rejuvenating sleep to come.