BD, ubl and m&m

Apr 2, 2002

I’m 32 today, and Little Anna made sure to wake up before 7 a.m. to tell me, in her darling, non-speaking way, that she loves me. What a treat it is to spend a sunny birthday morning with a living reminder of all that I have to celebrate today.

My mother, Cheryl, is here for a visit. Yesterday, we enjoyed the glorious day with coffee and rolls (of course, I had a chocolate croissant) at Weaver Street Market, then came back to the apartment to set out on a walk to the nearby University Lake. The sun on our faces felt so good, and to look at the faces of Anna and my mother was a simple pleasure that I returned to again and again. Later, as we waited in the car for Erin to exit from class, we heard Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, in his daily press conference, refer to UBL—presumably, Usama bin Laden. I was amused, but also aghast, that the Administration is now referring to the worst terrorist around by a nickname, even if it is meant to be a derisive one at best.

On Sunday, mom and Erin and Anna and I drove through the rain to the new shopping mall in Durham, the Streets at Southpointe. The place was closed for Easter, and that made us chuckle. We’re not used to finding malls closed on such perfect days to shop. But we are living in the South, now. Back at home, I happened to inhale an M&M (an Easter pastel color, I think the pink) and, choking, rushed to Erin for a Heimlich hug. After a few pumps, the M&M dislodged, but never came up. Did it go down into my lungs? ‘If an M&M won’t melt in your hands,’ I asked Erin, ‘how will it melt in my lung?’ Since I’m writing this two days later, I must be just fine. Still, I won’t be celebrating my birthday with any little chocolate candies.

Anton Zuiker

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