Wisdom lost.

[tedwords]

Well, yesterday was the day I took down the Sarah Palin manger. I carefully wrapped up all of the little ceramic pieces, making certain that I retained all the faces I had created. It makes it more fun when it comes time to unwrap them in twelve months...there's baby Obama, and grumpy old John McCain, and Hillary holding the head of Bill and looking fierce. Ah, memories...

I wonder, who will I honor with the manger next year?

This morning, Corb has the distinct pleasure of having his wisdom teeth removed. All four of them, too.

Last night, as he was putting away the Christmas tree ornaments, he grabbed a little silver bell, and started ringing it. "This is what I'm going to use, all day long, tomorrow," he said. "Every time I need something, I'll start ringing it."

"Oh, that sounds like fun," I said, grimacing.

Ring ring ring. He started ringing the bell, once again.

"Tonight, when you go to sleep, I'm going to remove the chime from that bell," I said, and starting chuckling at the thought. "I can just see you, trying to ring it."

I pictured Corb as the Abominable Snowman from Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer in my head, with all his teeth removed, lying on a couch and holding that little silver bell, trying to ring it. "You'll swing it back and forth..." And then I pretended to turn the bell over, prentended to look confused. I look inside, then turned the inaginary bell over, and started ringing it again. No sound.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" ashed Corb, and growled. "How insulting. Here's what I'm going to do. Tonight, while YOU'RE sleeping, I'm going to remove that chime and stick it someplace where the sun doesn't shine."

"Oh, that'd be BRILLIANT!" I said, laughing. "I can just see myself, waking up tomorrow, staring down into the toilet bowl. 'Funny, I don't remember eating a Christmas tree...'"

###

So, that's my life for the next few days. Little silver bells ringing, and tending to the sick. Liquid foods for Corb, and moans and medicine. But, as a good-deed doer, that's my lot in life, I suppose. Changing bedpans and sensible rubber shoes. See you round the hospital bed...