“What I really need,” I expounded at the dining table, “is some flexible plastic tubing that I can use to make super-long straws so you can lay flat on your back and still take a drink.”
“That is so lazy!’ came a reprimand from the next room. Eldest daughter Amber had caught a snippet of my conversation with youngest daughter Melinda. Taken out of context, my statement sounded like one more slide on my slippery slope toward morbid obesity. “That’s terrible!”
“No, no,” I protested, “you don’t understand.”
Neither did the grinning woman who stood behind me in line at the hardware store as I purchased several feet of 3/8″ diameter clear plastic tubing that afternoon. The coiled mass apparently reminded her of some bygone revelry, and a knowing smirk spread across her weathered features. “You gonna drink some beer with that?” she drawled.
A point to her for deducing that the tubing was destined to be used as flexible straws, but otherwise incorrect. Nor was my innovation designed for the sole purpose of minimizing physical activity, as Amber feared. In fact, I was looking for a way in which Melinda and I could maximize our observation of meteors during last weekend’s peak of the Perseid shower. We knew from experience that merely sitting up to take a drink can mean a missed meteor. All of our preparations for comfort and sustenance would be arranged so that we could keep our eyes on the sky for hours without interruption. Read More