Music to My Ears

I went to bed pretty early last night. As a result my eyes opened at 4:30 a.m. this morning. It was fortuitous because I could hear Kallie, who was lying on the bedroom floor, whining a little–waiting for me to wake up. When she whines, it’s a pretty sure sign she needs to “poodle” (as opposed to “piddle”). And given the fact I ignored a similar plea earlier in the week, resulting in a big steaming pile of lovin’ left for me in the middle of the kitchen floor, I decided to heed her  signals, get up and get dressed.

I was surprised how “warm” it felt this morning as we walked. (At 45 degrees, my annual winter blood thickening has obviously begun.) As we scurried down the sidewalk, it felt like we were the only people on earth. And certainly if we weren’t, then we were the only ones who were up. It didn’t matter which way I looked, there wasn’t a car or person to be seen. It was a unique perspective to have, living in such a big city. And not one I ever had when I was stumbling home at this hour back in the day.

This kind of quiet walk in a neighborhood lit by Christmas decorations was a sweet way to kick off the weekend. With plenty of holiday thoughts to ponder, my mind of course turned to Ken and our holiday memories–and just memories in general. When we got back home I had received an email from 7-11. Actually, Ken did. I took control of his email address when he wasn’t able to manage it any longer and have kept it ever since. And I probably will  have it forever. When I saw the spam email, I realized it wasn’t spam. It was part of a promotion Ken signed up for.

When he was getting radiation on his glute in the fall of 2010 we started the tradition of going to 7-11 for a Slurpee–when he was up for it. His preference was a mixture of cola on the bottom and cherry on the top or the other way around. It depended, and I gladly obliged and tried to pick a fun-colored straw to compliment his preferred treat.

One particular day comes to mind as we laughed ourselves silly on the drive from the Creticos Cancer Center where he received treatment to the 7-11 on the way home. The inappropriate subject of “poop” came up as similar topics often did on our amusing drives. Very musically inclined, Ken came up with a song about said “poop” topic and I remember laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

While I was in 7-11 getting his combo Slurpee he took out his iPhone and recorded the song. When I got back into the car and he played it for me. I laughed so hard I cried. Lately, so many “inside” jokes between him and me have been popping (pooping?) into my  head–and a few of them have cracked me up all over again. When I saw the 7-11 email this morning and thought of this story, it occurred to me that I still have the original recording. I played it several times and laughed each time.

I hope you do too. Enjoy.

Poop Your Pants

Ken was full of such creativity and drive and humor and music. I love hearing his voice again, singing and improvising as he loved to do–and was so adept at.

As for now, please excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom…



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