Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

This is about how little things can make a difference, but mostly it's because I find it morbidly funny. I have just finished a 3-day work weekend. Meaning I worked to no end. On day 1, I noticed someone had thrown out a lot of lovely flower arrangements. Perhaps because we have been noticing gnats, but I still thought it was a shame. Do not fear, I didn't go dumpster diving. On day 2, I went into a patient's room to help belay the beeping of IV pumps. When I went in, I noticed that the patient, who had had a forequarter resection (meaning one of her arms and shoulders was amputated), had several magnificent flower arrangements, and then a dozen pink roses still wrapped in plastic. I asked if she wanted a vase for them, and she consented, so I went to the nurse break room because you can find the oddest things there. I located a purple glass vase, then trimmed the rose stems and placed them in water and returned the very feminine arrangement to her room. On day 3, in t

While I am fairly certain my first word in this life was "NO", I am also fairly certain that my second word was "dada", which most parents--especially of the male variety--take to be a reference to the father. Since then, I have tried out lots of different names. Daddy Dadsy Papa Popsicle Padre Daddikins Father Aged P Dad etc. He has not objected to a single moniker, except when I called him "Steve". Which happens to be his name. I think when I asked about why he objected, he said something about proper respect, but I honestly don't see many of my names for him to be particularly distinguished. I have concluded, then. that he wants to be a father-- more particularly, MY father--because he perceives fatherhood as a worthy achievement. Somewhere buried beneath a lot of cultural abandonment of the importance of fatherhood lies the foundation of the father's role: respected, nurturing, protective, responsible. We refer to it in pra

I have to wake up in three hours. It'd be nice to call into work, but we're usually short-staffed, and probably even more so with the flash flood warnings, and I don't want to do that to my co-workers. Also, currently my fire alarm is going off. I'm ignoring that right now. One of many if-not-illegal-than-incivil things for the night. Who can sleep now, anyway? My dog Val woke me up at 1am this morning by jumping on my bed...and me. I assumed it was to pee (actually, I am pretty sure it was, but I don't care, and it doesn't matter anyway), and I saw to my irritation that Val had eaten my cat Violet's food (again). But then I realized I didn't see Violet. I got my flashlight and checked her bed, but she rarely uses that in favor of my bed. I checked in the bathroom where I had put her blanket and food. Not there. I checked under  my bed. No furball. So I checked her litter box, and saw that something was wrong. She was lying on her side (problem nu