Saturday, September 1, 2012

Another Planet


I used to marvel at the varied conditions of Juan's and my childhood, particularly at the geographic and linguistic differences between us--he, having grown up in Colombia, speaking Spanish,  and I in Texas, speaking English.  Had we met 15 years ago perhaps we would have smiled in passing, but wouldn't have been able to converse.

The continental divide was nothing compared to the different planets we now inhabit during the day, however.

This morning, Juan arrives at the office with his colleagues, they say hello, shake hands, and eventually sit at their desks to continue weaving together intricate mathematical models and abstract theorems.  Occasionally they break to chit chat about sports and perhaps politics; and laugh over dorky jokes about betas and gammas walking into a bar (I don't know I'm making this up).  

Meanwhile.......I'm on the toilet--playing peek-a-boo with an infant at my feet.  And since no space is sacred on my planet, my toddler, Mateo, walks in to the bathroom to say hi and join the "party". His mouth is too full of milk, though, which is typical, so he chokes on it and vomits it all over the infant, Tomas', head.  Tomas tries to look at me through streams of milk vomit, but the involuntary flutter of his eyelashes makes it impossible.   Mateo just looks on, wondering who the heck vomited all over Tomas. 

I'm trying to imagine a context where this scenario might somehow play itself out in Juan's world, but I can't think of one. Not one where anyone is welcome back, anyway.

On my planet, however, it's business as usual.


1 comment:

Dwija {House Unseen} said...

Oh Meg. Yes. This is exactly it!