Death, Danger, and Dime Slots

When I called Christian a Mama's Boy, of course what I meant was he and his mother were very close. Their relationship was strong, and he's struggling with her sudden loss.

(While we're on the subject of my last post, what the hell was I thinking when I wrote "almost exactly a year ago"? Almost exactly? I is a good writer.)

I'm glad we went to be with Christian, although it was a long day yesterday. By the time we got home my feet were swollen and my back hurt, and I enjoyed the lovely combination of hunger and nausea. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the bazillion little candy bars I ate on the drive. While throwing up half a spinach salad is excitement enough for one day, the most exciting thing that happened yesterday?

Aunt Bob was attacked by a mob of seagulls.

Heh.

It's funnier if you know that Aunt Bob has a mild phobia of birds. She identifies with Tippi Hedren. Pigeons scare her.

After Christian's mother's service, Aunt Bob and I explored the city a little. We got corn dogs and french fries and walked along the boardwalk. As we finished Aunt Bob's fries, an impatient seagull decided to help himself to the one she was holding in her hand.

There was much squealing and squawking and flailing of arms and flapping of wings and running and swarming and trembling.

Aunt Bob got nipped in the finger, shrieked, dropped the rest of her fries, and ran away. A throng of seagulls surrounded the dropped booty and devoured them in two seconds flat. I sorted out what the hell had just happened, walked back to the scene of the crime to properly discard the now-empty fry box, and tried to comfort her. We kept walking. I suggested we get her a beer. She declined, and eventually stopped shaking. Then I started giggling.

Between giggles, I tried to convince Aunt Bob that really, it was pretty funny. She remained unconvinced. "It was terrible," she repeated.

It was pretty fucking funny.

Aunt Bob did not scream at the top of her lungs, which showed remarkable restraint on her part. The family walking toward us, who saw the whole thing, told their child not to open his chips "because those birds are crazy."

I continue to giggle. Because it is funny.

On the way out, Aunt Bob won $60 from a dime slot machine, a fortune I chalked up to the lucky seagull attack.