A sign

A sign

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Basic Information: Things to do

So, I've decided to start writing little things that come up.  They aren't full page stories. But, they are funny and odd, and I like them.   I am calling this line of not so stories: "Basic Information". Here is the first of these. It's called Things to do

Miles and I went to dinner last night. He is in a research group for school.  This group has students, post docs, and the professor that leads it.  Whenever one of these people graduate or finish up with their Post doc, the whole group gets together for a dinner to say good bye.

Miles had never attended these dinners before.  Both because of his lack of funds and because of his disinterest in social gatherings (Turns out the professor pays. Miles missed out on SO MANY free dinners). We went to our first one a couple of weeks ago.  Miles knew the kid well and felt bad not going, and we were going to Ethiopian food...so it was really a no brainer. This is where we found out that it was free, and where the Ethiopian place in Rochester is.

Last night we went to an Italian place. It was good, it would have been better if I could have had red wine...but, fetuses are lightweights.

On our way home, or rather, about one second away from our house, Miles remembered that he was supposed to go back to the lab and shut off a reaction.  He gets overwhelmed with the idea of this and I can see him trying to talk himself out of going back.  This never works with Miles.  He would have ended up going back to lab no matter what.  Whether it be now or in two hours, when he can't get it out of his mind.  We go.

At the lab it takes about two seconds to get everything done that he wants to.  He is still frustrated with the fact that we had to come back when he remembers something. He is locking up the door and freezes.  He glances at me. He sighs. He puts one hand on the wall and his head down, visibly frustrated with something. He wants to do something else, but he also just wants to go home.  There is a battle taking place in his mind. He looks at me, closes his eyes, and says:

"Listen. Do you want a lambs wool sweater?"