Tickles

Tomorrow marks another day in my life that I hope to get through with flying colors. Or at least flying black and white....or grey. I am getting my wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow. I seem to have gotten a cavity in one of them and of course, in the irony that rules my life, the cavity is on the trigeminal neuralgia side. So to avoid thinking about any of what could happen (i.e., the possibility of an attack after the surgery) I have been asking my kids all kinds of questions about my husband just to see what they say.

Me: Do you guys remember what Daddy looks like?

Them: Yes!

4 year old: Big and tall and brown skin with not a lot of brown hair. (brown skin?!! for those of you who don't know...he is white, like Irish white.)

3 year old: My daddy is big! And he sounds like this (cue a very high pitched tea kettle whistling) weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! (OK, just be assured he does not sound like that)

Me: Do you know where Daddy is?

4 year old: Yes! Mommy do you have the number to call Daddy? (I wish!)

3 year old: Daddy is helping people. And all the teeth in the world. (my poor kids are so confused)

Me: What else do you think of when you think of Daddy?

4 year old: Big, huge muscles! (if Daddy is reading this, he is smiling from ear to ear)

3 year old: Daddy has tutus! (mental picture of Daddy in a tutu! ha! Daddy's smile is gone)

Me: You mean tattoos?

4 year old: Yes! Johnny Cash on his arm.

3 year old: And a puzzle around his arm. (a Celtic braid)

4 year old: And a chain on his ankle, but I can't remember which one. (pathetically, neither can I...sorry honey. and it isn't a chain. it is barbed wire. )

Me: What is your favorite thing about Daddy?

4 year old: When we wrestle! (I too miss those after-dinner wrestling matches while I do the dishes and listen to the kids laughing and laughing)

3 year old: My Daddy tickles me. (this is where I start tearing up...sniffle sniffle)

1 year old: MAAAAAAAAAA! (In the most obnoxious screeching noise ever...and he is saying "more" I think...this is where the sniffles and tears are gone)

So for a few minutes I forgot about my impending procedure. I wish I could look into the future (like three days...not so dramatic right?) and make sure that an attack is not going to happen. I wish I could look into the future (like four months...again, not so dramatic) to make sure my husband comes home safely.

Tutus and all.