Metamorphosism

balsam, sort of

First the old flower lady tells me my hair has gone white. Then I realize my boss is younger than I am and telling myself I rejected a stressful life of uncool soul-selling careerism is cold comfort because part of me asks, Then why am I feeling so stressed out and soul-sold then, huh?

Then I get home and find a virus has swept across the land making two out of three females insane. Various events transpire, then one of the two puts the other one of the two to bed and I stand there in the relative calm feeling like a man who has just stuffed a lynx into a mailbox.

Then the third one, the calm one, is nice to me. Eldest daughter. Someday she be doctor, cure something. Live in big house.

I ask her how school was. She's going to a new school where all the other kids are geniuses with attitudes. I can feel that she's sort of exploring the world of attitude, trying various ones on. Her attitude this evening is: Affectionate.

"All the other dads walked their kids clear up to the classroom." She has the classroom on the highest floor of the school, in the furthest corner. I was in a big hurry to get to work and just sort of walked her into the school and dropped her off. We were early, she was the first one.

"Did anyone mention me not coming clear up?"

"No, I was the first one. No one saw. But it doesn't matter. E's dad even gave her a kiss and she didn't punch him for it!"

"Wow."

"And I couldn't believe the other dads. You're by far the coolest and best-looking."

"Really?"

"All the rest were like already bald on top with a gray fringe and a grey moustache."

[I silently give thanks that I shaved the grey goatee I grew on vacation.]

"And wore funny little glasses."

[I pocket my reading glasses.]

"And they all look like, I dunno, bank directors."

"Bank directors are bad..."

"Very bad."