We were eating dinner last night, when I spied an empty shoe box in the corner. JF had gotten new shoes over the weekend, and I was curious to know how they were working out for him.
Me: Oh, yeah. How are your new shoes? Are you getting them all broken in?
JF: They're fine. What's "broken" is my back, not my shoes.
(JF has spent the last several weeks toting endless numbers of computers around old historical buildings which have no elevators, only cramped stairwells.)
Me: Ooh. Sorry about that. (Grimaces in empathetic pain...)
JF: Yeah, I keep asking for a new spine but you haven't gotten me one yet.
Me: Don't you know -- there's a shortage on them right now, what with the political scene and the banking world the way it is. Seems like everyone's looking for a new spine.
Being An Adult
9 hours ago