Doggie toys arrrrre...Yucky!

We have a new mantra in our house.

Nick, April, or Nathan, or any combination of said names: Doggie toys arrrrre...

Michael: YUCKY!

Over. And over. And over...

The problem is that it's becoming more of a game and less of a redirecting tactic. Yucky to us has an unmistakably negative connotation. To Michael, maybe it's just a really really fun word to say. Why, why, why is there such an obsession with Michael touching slimy, doggie, chew, plastic-thingies or ratty, old, nasty plush rabbits? They even LOOK yucky. Now that I think about it, Michael is really into washing his hands. It is such a riot. Maybe he has me figured out because after he touches a doggie toy, one or more of us start the "doggie toys arrrre..." chant. After that, he gets to shout, "Yucky!" After that he gets to wash his hands. Lots and lots of attention. Hmmm. Maybe I am being scammed. HA!

Dr. DeBakey's Sisters

I went to the dentist today. I know that Nick will be a dentist in the not-so-distant future, and I love him to pieces. However, I can't stand going to the dentist. I'd rather give birth again. No joke. I'm wandering from the point. In the waiting room, I busied myself with some meaningless magazine. Thumbing through the pages looking at the pictures, I saw a photograph of two older women. Their picture caught my eye and the article was short. They'd be calling me back for my appointment any minute. I wrote a post the other day about Dr. DeBakey. The two women are his two sisters. The article, in short, summed up the devotion and support that these two women gave their brother as he climbed the medical ladder of success. They made their own marks on the medical communications field, which I learned was just that--doctors communicating with patients about their diagnoses (I thought the term may have meant much more technical verbage). I was pleasantly surprised to learn that these women took a more, not emotional, but perhaps the word is humanistic approach to medicine. Their brother was famous and world-renowned. But there in this little article, the world got to meet his sisters. They haven't quite made it to world-renowned status, but it was a pleasure to read about them.

School Supply Obsession

Remember, before glue sticks, there was glue paste? In the first grade, mine was taken (or I misplaced it) six times. What a first grade memory. I think there is a (very loose) connection between my paste being taken and me hoarding school supplies to this day. Mid-July rolls around each year and those 50-cent packs of pens and pencils and colors call my name. It's a stranger obsession than my dish towel craze. Maybe that's weird too. And so, 'tis the season again.

Dr. Michael DeBakey

The death of Dr. Michael DeBakey has headlined the Houston news lately. I always knew he was a Houston icon, but his passing brought two thoughts to mind. First, what makes a person great? Second, did Dr. Debakey--in his greatness--ever have time to just live?I made a great fish curry dinner the other night. Does that make me great? It certainly doesn't measure up to pioneering the field of cardiology nor inventing life-saving devices. He even pioneered the very procedure that later saved his own life. Great things are going on in the world every moment of every day. We have great people all over our country (some who truly are great, and some who may think themselves great). In August, children all over the country will file into their classrooms. Among those children will be the "greats" of the future. They will invent and transform things that we have no concept of at the present time. What frontiers are yet to be discovered? Do my own children behold greatness?--well, most certainly they do...just ask me...I'll tell you!Did Dr. Debakey ever sit, meditate, and savor a cup of coffee? Or did he eat, drink, and breath cardiology? They say that even in his later years, he continued to push the envelope in advancing his field. Could he handle small talk at a dinner party? What did people talk to him about? Did he ever fuss about dirty dishes around his house? I sound like a nosy voyeur, but after hearing about all of his professional greatness, I wonder what he was like as a man. His photographs in and out of surgical attire make him look like a stern and unapproachable man. At one time, he was someone's little boy. At one time, he was learning to ride a bicycle. At one time, he fell in love--I am sure, well, I hope he did. And one morning or evening, or perhaps in the shower one day, he sparked an idea that gave birth to his greatness as a heart surgeon and innovator. I wonder if he knew what an impact he would make on the world.

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