Weʻre at the beach today and my 12-year-old son sees a woman jogging backward.
“Mom,” he says, “remember that one woman that got the swine flu shot and was all messed up?”
“No.” I tell him, slightly irritated because Iʻm busy trying to corral the other kids toward the sand.
“Yeah, you know– that one woman I showed you on YouTube that got a flu shot and her body couldnʻt work right after that!” He shouts, gesturing in all different directions with his hands and calling attention to the air around him.
“Ohhh yeahhh…” I go, remembering the video he showed me about a woman who used to be healthy and active– I think she was some kind of cheerleader or something– anyway, she got a routine flu shot that did something to her brain and she became disabled. (Sad story, I know. This is why Iʻm not laughing. Not the funny part yet, people.)
“Yeah,” he smiles, seeming glad that I remember. He stops, and points his right finger in the direction of the woman who is still jogging down the sidewalk with her hair and her ass leading the way. “Do you think thatʻs her?”
“What?”
“Sheʻs running all funny, like normal people donʻt run like that. Do you think thatʻs who it is?”
“I donʻt know, you should ask her.” I tell him, and run in the other direction, leaping in front of his dad you know– just in case he actually did have the cajones to do it.
Thankfully, he morphed into that polite child that every mom hopes to see– at least in public, anyway– and he ran after me like he thought I was going to leave him behind to seek some witty sarcasm an explanation.
God, I love my kids.
