This afternoon I am getting a marble-sized cyst on the back of my knee lanced. The problem is that when I talk about it I keep saying that I have to get my lance cysted. Have you cysted your lance today?
Beth and I were talking on the phone yesterday and I mentioned that I had to get my lance cysted and she was overcome with excitement, more excitement than I knew a cysted lance deserved. She said she once had a lance that got cysted and the goo that came out of it was oozy and cretaceous. And I said you mean crustaceous? And she said yeah, that, not the word that has to do with dinosaurs. And I said, yeah, I’m not sure dinosaurs have anything to do with it.
Later in the day we talked again and she asked if I was ready for the cysting of the lance, and I said that I was a little scared but more excited than anything else. I mean, crustaceousness was going to come out of my knee just like she described. And then I asked her, what was that word you used earlier? And she said crus, crus, um… and then I heard her turn to her five-year-old son and ask what is that word? And he said authoritatively, “It’s the Cretaceous Dinosaur Period, Mom.”
Yeah, that. THANKS, FIVE-YEAR-OLD BOY WHO COULD PROBABLY SOLVE THE SOCIAL SECURITY DEBATE IF WE JUST ASKED HIM TO.