October 28, 2005
Last Rose of Summer
Big Baby: Pretty please with sugar on top, can't I have a flower picture. I'm sick sick sick of talking about sick sick sick. Besides, there won't be any more flowers for a long time, unless they're store bought or plastic.
Higher Self: Yes dear, you have been very patient. You have hardly interfered with my civic responsibilities lately, except for that temper tantrum the other day. But you did a good job pounding on the drum and yelling "SUFFER SUFFER SUFFER". We shall have to do it the next time you feel upset with a narcissist. It worked very well. .
Big Baby: I'm good at pounding.
Higher Self: Yes you are, and we prefer that you do not do it on the body.
Big Baby: Halloween's Monday. Do I have to wear a contamination suit? Can't I go as something pretty, like a drop of blood?
Higher Self: We'll see, dear. Now here's your flower picture, aren't you happy?
Big Baby: (beginning to jump up and down and flail) Drop of Blood Costume, Drop of Blood Costume, I want a Drop of Blood Costume!
Higher Self: We'll think about it darling. (soto voce) Honestly, I just don't know where she gets these grizzly ideas.
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Photo notes: Took the flower shot yesterday in the cold rain. Had to drive around the block twice for a reasonable, though still imperfect, view of the Blood Drop, which I presume was an American Red Cross public relations effort. Wonder how well it worked? Maybe they have an bacteria costume in their closet. I never thought to try the subway station for avian flu information distribution. I must keep in mind that IT'S NOT MY JOB.