Our Tiny Little Easter Story
We dressed up our tiny little easter girl up, loaded the Accord and boldly headed north. We made it to the Strybing Arboretum in Golden Gate Park. A favorite location. Spring is at its peak - the California garden was a riot of color, the proteas (Cape province) are just on the edge of flowering, and the succulent garden (my favorite place in the entire city) was sporting all manner of spikes and whorls of vegetative promiscuity.
I walked by a fallen waxy flower spike, and a hummingbird landed four feet away and ultrasonically declared "I saw it first, Bunghole!"
When I went to the rest room, Loving Spouse tended the carriage. from my tiled lair, I could see through the grate that some fellow with a guitar and really bad hair had accosted her. They spoke a coupla sentences, then he moved on.
When I came out, Bad Hair Dude was talking to the next in line, who tried to somehow politely ignore him. I asked Spouse - who and what? She said, Some old guy who likes to talk. (Little gesture with the eyes suggesting a harmless chemical imbalance.)
He'd commented on the cuteness of Helen. Spouse (in a fit of playfulness) had said "Yes, I hatched her from an egg." Spouse turns to me and says that the fellow replied, in all seriousness: "Of course. We all come from eggs. From space."
Spouse is very perceptive of other realities. |
