1) $1,000. That, at least in theory, is the most it will cost us to have Dr. Brad make it so that Ethan can hear. The most, as in "I can't seem to get even a ballpark figure from anyone as to what atresia repair surgery costs, so I'm relying on Blue Cross Blue Shield's in-network max figure which is essentially 10%, capped at $1,000 with a $300 deductible (already met)." You know, that old chestnut.
I guess that means there's no reason not to schedule surgery with Dr. Brad. For some reason -- possibly the recent onslaught of horror stories being trotted out during the current health care reform debates -- I had it in my head that this would be harder. Whatever. Not ruling out a fight in the future, but basking in the current state of uncomplicatednessosity. Looking toward either the Christmas break or Spring break since we'd rather not have the boys out of school unless absolutely necessary.
Wait, we're talking about Kindergarten and first grade here. And despite the fact that Kindergarten is the new first grade and first grade is the new second grade, it's still all shite considering that we're talking about Ethan being able to hear. No, fuck that, first available and school can kiss my ass. Not really, I like their school. But you know what I mean.
2) Speaking of school, just had a lovely chat with Ms. A (not her real name), the guidance counselor who's filling in for Ms. B (not her real name either. GOD, I'm totally the Bourne Identity) who's out on maternity leave. It appears that while in the hall en route to the cafeteria, a little boy in his class tried to kiss Ethan. Ethan, who knows better than to play around in the halls, told the little boy to stop. The little boy persisted so Ethan punched him several times. Really fucking hard. I've felt Ethan's punches and, while most of them were to my nads and, thus, produced more pain than would be normally experienced, I can testify to his non-ball-punching strength as well. Sometimes I deliver that testimony in a really high voice. With tears streaming down my cheeks. And I tend to sleep on my back those nights.
Anyhoo the teacher took both boys to Ms. A's office who then called me. And I gotta tell you, Ms. A's voice? Not. Threatening. When she announced that she was calling from the school, her tone made me think that she wanted Sandi to bake something for a fundraiser. And then I found out who she was and why she was calling and I'm all like DAMN, I wish MY disciplinarians were that nice. Mine were big, sweaty guys fresh from the bush in Vietnam who spit on you when they yell-spoke -- "A TWISTED SISTER PIN?! ON YOUR UNIFORM?!" Seriously, I still have the yearbooks. It was not my imagination. Those guys were BADASS.
So Aunt Bea's on the phone telling me that Ethan just jacked some kid and all I can think is lady, not to tell you your business or anything, but if your concern here is that Eth may become a career gay basher, you may want to take a sterner tone. Ugh, fuckin' ugh. I gotta do EVERYthing myself. So she puts him on the phone. Odd thing? He asks me to speak to me by name: "Hello, may I speak to Ed please?" That's when I realized that the school must pass out Ecstasy and play industrial rave music for morning recess. T'would certainly explain the mirrored balls in the gym.
Anyway, Ethan and I spoke. I expressed my displeasure in firm daddy tones and let him know that we will be talking about this. Now all I have to do is figure a way to do so without using the words "hate crime" which could lay the seeds for a self-fulfilling prophecy. Thanks, Aunt Bea. You've made my job SO much easier.
3) Sandi and I took a day last week and went shopping for stuff to finish our bedroom. We scored a few really nice carved wooden masks, much like the picture shown above (without the ears, though. I added those in case you couldn't tell. Surprise!). I hung the masks above our headboard yesterday and when Ethan saw them, he went up to one and said, "Hey, Pal. Why the long face?" His first joke. Well, his first funny joke. His first attempted joke was "Why did the chicken cross the road. Because he dropped his keys." Which reminds me that Thomas told his first funny joke around this time last year: "Excuse me, can I have another butt please? This one has a crack in it."
4) Ooh, let's have a contest. If you can tell me what the title of this post is from I'll send you something nice. E-mail me your answers and I'll pick a random winner.
5) There is no five.
"Laughter is inner jogging." -- Norman Cousins