Thursday, November 27, 2008
"The world only goes round by misunderstanding."
Spouse, in his familiar fine handwriting, embarked on constructing a list of tasks to do for this day. When he finally relinquished the pen there were words everywhere, spilling over the fringe of the page as though some wayward items were scrambling to escape, and as a result of limited space Spouse's elegant penmanship became a struggle to maintain. One of the last lines on the list was a note to call our family physician, Dr. Patil.
Upon returning later, Spouse was wholly incapable of deciphering what a certain scribble indicated.
When much postulating shed light on the matter, he was forced to shatter my concentration- I was immersed in a novel and far from lists and assignments- to relate his confusion.
"I wondered," said a much relieved Spouse, "why I had written that we were supposed to call Dr. Phil!"
The latter being a television personality and celebrity psychologist, one naturally speculates about any advice that might be dispensed to a fellow rendered unable to read his own writing.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 1:33 PM