A Day

This morning, I went to my French class, bumble around town, then went to my doctor's appointment. The Man went to see his dentist, then visited friends. The Boy went to school.

In the afternoon, I met The Man for coffee and he massaged my left hand. I don't know why the back of my hand is swollen. I wonder if I banged it into something or if it's arthritis. Then we went shopping and got The Man some shoes to replace ones he lost in France.

Later, we hooked up with The Boy, picked Mom up, and went to dinner. The Man and The Boy ducked into a clothing store beside the restaurant. A few minutes later, The Boy emerged with a dry-clean only purple wool sweater. The Boy said, I like shopping with Dad. We just go it, get it, and get out. So simple. Dry clean only? What's the matter with The Man?

We had oysters at dinner. Mom said she's never had raw oysters before. I didn't believe her. If she's never had it, then where did I acquire the taste from? I seem to have a memory of Granny, Mom, and me as a young girl, eating oysters at a stall on a mountain. Never happened, Mom claimed. She said the idea of eating uncooked meat repulses her, but now that she's tried it, raw oysters are quite delicious.

Now we are home. Each of us have dispersed to our own corner of the house. I am forever cleaning up and throwing things out. The Man has gone to sleep. The Boy is with his friends on the computer and phone. That's our day.