Today, my mother took off work and she and I went to have breakfast together. We were sitting around for awhile after the meal when she noticed an old man having difficulty getting up the two steps that led from the waiting area of the restaurant to the sitting and eating area. She suggested that I walk over and offer him some help. So I did. I said, "Can I give you a hand getting up the steps?" and he just looked at me with this slack jaw and then collapsed against me. As he fell, I caught him. Two other guys hurried over to try and help because he was a fat old man. The three of us stood, staggering under his jiggly weight and, as we tried to maneuver his gasping and heaving body onto a chair, he urintated. Then, his equally elderly companion called an ambulance because it had suddenly occurred to all of us that he might not just be falling and peeing for shits and giggles, but that maybe he was having a heart attack. Then, my mother and I left because who the hell wants to stick around for a heart attack?

Later, my mother bought me some pants.

Honestly, Spring Break has not been exciting or bad. It has been unlike any time in my entire life. I have never been home and reasonably content and reasonably well-rested and reasonably clean and...able to see and Jessica is still wonderful and I feel very reasonably good. I've somehow passed beyond that precarious joy which possesses me on occasion and which rarely lasts more than a day or so. I am safe and comfortable in a world that has few disappointments, very little pain, and early bedtimes.

It helps that I ate a Belgian Waffle with pecans and vanilla ice cream today. There can be nothing wrong in a world that allows Belgian Waffles with Pecans and vanilla ice cream to be eaten by reasonably happy people like me.

These things are pleasing to me.

********ADDENDUM********
Three days ago, Jessica's father asked me if I wanted to play Major League Baseball Steriods with him. He said, "I'll be Jose Canseco, you be Mark McGwire." Am I wrong, or was he asking me to turn around and allow him to give me an injection in my ass and then plead the 5th ten years later before a congressional hearing after he publishes a tell-all book?

At least, as long as he was playing current events, he didn't want to play Michael Jackson or Terri Shiavo. Both of THOSE games could have led to some uncomfortable situations.