Her Tongue

February 19, 2008

My mother and I play a game called "Things that make you say hmm." (As a side note, "hmm" is said with a musing note, not with disgust or disapproval, like a harumph. It is usually a very brief exclamation intoned in the back of the throat, accompanied by lifted eyebrows and widening eyes, indicating wonderment, as to suggest, "I didn't expect that.")

Yesterday, as I waited six steps back from the customer in front of me (to ensure privacy, even though I have perfectly good hearing and eyesight, even at six paces) for Erin's new prescription, I heard a distinct clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, with an occasional click thrown in. I had chosen a point somewhere at middle distance to focus my eyes, to avoid looking like I was trying to eavesdrop on the pharmacy customer ahead of me. When I heard the noise, I looked around.

The first thing I spotted was a couple grocery shopping (my pharmacy is inside a grocery store, so this isn't remarkable or worth a "hmm." Although it almost was, because the man was carrying a pair of six month old babies, one on each hip, as he followed the woman pushing the cart through the produce section. I could think of several other, more convenient ways to shop with twins, but their choice wasn't that unique.).

I listened a bit more, and finally spotted a young girl, maybe 10 or 11, marching around the store. This sight made me say "hmm," because of the incongruity of what I spotted. She was wearing a blue, sparkly mini-dress and tap shoes (she seemed on the old side of dress up out in public) and talking loudly on a cell phone (she seemed too young to have a cell phone pressed to her ear while she roamed around the store). The combination (marching, costume, tap shoes, cell phone, too old, too young) created a "hmm" moment.

Here's another one:

Yesterday I corresponded with Erin's pediatrician about how Erin was reacting to the antibiotic she was on. I noted her fatigue, some headache, and unexplained moodiness. I concluded with "yesterday, she began noticing that her tongue 'felt wrong'."

The email program I was using underlined "her tongue" in both red and blue as if I had spelled tongue wrong and also used poor grammar. I checked the spelling, which I seemed to have gotten correct the first time, proofread the the whole message more carefully, and hit "send." Here comes the "hmm" part. The software popped up a warning box with the message that the mail I was trying to send would be offensive to most people. . . APPARENTLY BECAUSE I USED THE TWO-WORD PHRASE "HER TONGUE."

How do tongue doctors or shoe makers send e-mail if "her tongue" is offensive and blocked?

On the health front, Erin seemed less moody this morning though still more tired than usual. I have to pick her up from school in a bit, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a resolution of some of the side effects, including I hope, HER TONGUE. (I guess as long as I am going to be offensive to most people, I should go all the way).