Rational. For The Moment.

It's been a while since we've seen them.  But it seems it is time for our old friends Rational Mind and Hysterical Mind to do a little guest appearance on the blog.  In times of stress, both major and ridiculously minor, The Sheep's brain separates neatly into its two opposing halves.  Let's see what they are up to tonight, shall we?

Hysterical Mind: (dancing around the kitchen and singing a vintage ditty from Kool And The Gang in her signature off-key manner)  Celebrate the limes...CALL DON!!!!!!

Rational Mind:  Those aren't the words.  It's "Celebrate good times..."  

HM:  Yes they are too the words.  It is a song about the joys of vitamin C.  We "celebrate" the vitamin C.  Although why we have to call Don, I have absolutely no idea.  I guess he hasn't heard about all the advances in treating the horror that is scurvy...  (continues to sing, although the words are muffled as she uses her teeth to tear open a package of cookies)

RM:  What are you doing???  No cookies on a Thursday!  You know the rules.

HM:  Nope!  Not tonight, baby!  We're taking tomorrow off from work!  I know because I spent the whole day reviewing with our Cheerful Teaching Assistants the procedures for fire drills, emergency evacuations and protocols for handling a pandemic-type flu quarantine.  Then I read aloud from our ten page lesson plan and showed them where I keep the back up lesson plans.  I also shared the dossiers I've compiled on all the possible substitute teachers so they would know with whom they are dealing in our absence.  I've covered all the bases!  So it's not really Thursday.  It's more like Friday...it's Thriday!!!!!!!!!!!  Help me tear into these cookies!

RM:  Um...hey!  I have an idea.  Why don't you have a nice carrot stick?  Here you go.  Fresh from the crisper.  Mmm...yummy!!  (rubs tummy in an exaggerated and encouraging manner)

HM:  Can I put peanut butter on it?

RM:  Er...no.  Too sticky.  

HM:  (doubtfully nibbles on the offered orange stick)  I guess it's ok...but I still want a cookie.  We have tomorrow off.  We should celebrate like the lime song says.

RM: (in a distracting and sing-song manner)  I have a little present for you!

HM:  Yay!!  Gimme!!!  What do we have here?  Wait...this is dental floss.  You are giving me dental floss?

RM:  Yessiree!  I know how much you like to tend the old choppers.  And I thought a good flossin' might be just the thing to celebrate our early start to the weekend.  You can't floss too much, that's what I always say!

HM:  What is going on here?  Have you been into the cooking sherry?  You most certainly do not say that.  You say, "Hey, HM, stop flossing so much, you obsessive/compulsive idiot.  You're making our gums bleed."  In fact, you have been hiding the floss since that incident where I had to go get that transfusion.

RM:  To be fair, going in for a transfusion was a bit of an over-reaction.  I don't think anyone has ever bleed to death from the gums.  But, I'm cutting loose tonight.  Floss away!

HM:  Okey-dokey!  (proceeds to cut floss in various lengths and thread them individually in the spaces between her teeth)  Look!  It's like my teeth have dreds!  Hee-hee!!!  If I spin around really fast, I can make them stick out straight!

RM:  Settle down.  You're going to get dizzy.  Now floss.

HM:  (staggering slightly from the spinning)  You know what would be fun?  We could take some of the green yarn from the Invisibility Shawl, thread that in there and pretend we are The Creature From The Black Lagoon!  Go get it!

RM:  NO.  It will just get stuck.  And the people at the hospital said that if we go back there one more time for any sort of "extraction" procedure then we are going to have to talk to the social worker.  Just use the nice floss I gave you.  Then we will go brush.

HM:  What is wrong with you?  You are never this obsessive about the dental care.  You made me go on a schedule after the dentist said I had brushed away half my gums.  Why are we all brushy/flossy tonight?

RM:  No reason.  Just thinking that it might be a nice idea to spend some quality time together practicing good dental hygiene.  No reason other than that whatsoever.  Just think how proud the dentist will be when he sees us next.

HM:  Nope.  I'm not gonna think about the mean dentist.  He gives me the willies.  I'm just gonna relax and have a pleasant evening playing with my new floss.  Hey...why is tomorrow's square on the calendar blacked out?  Do we have to be somewhere?  Is there something you're not telling me?  Am I dying?  

RM:  The calendar?  Blacked out, you say?  Haven't a clue.  Say, why don't you have that cookie?  Then we can go brush.  (hustles HM out of the kitchen before she can see the appointment card with the smiling tooth embossed upon it that is inconspicuously clipped to the calendar page)  Maybe we can even try out that new fluoride rinse I bought for you the other day...

As of this writing, HM has not yet caught on to the fact that she will be riding along with us to the dentist tomorrow morning.  I'm hoping that the early appointment we made will help us in getting out of the house for this little field trip.  HM is not a "morning person."  With any luck, she won't wake up until we are half-way through the cleaning and then we can just distract her with the neat spit-sucker thing.  She's always wanted one of those for the house as she is sometimes afraid we will one day choke on our own saliva.  

Failing that, I have a little bit of the narcotic cough syrup left over from our last bout with the bronchitis.  That should put her out for the night...

(For those of you who might be interested, here is where you can listen to HM's song with the correct lyrics.  RM sort of insisted that we go for accuracy here.)

SA