2 - That hot cheese hurts like hell.
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We're in the house living room, wall-staring and
radio-listening. Maybe it's a basketball game,
but it's pretty crackly so I'm not quite sure.
The door's open for the heat, and Tinny's there
setting across from me. When a big old fly comes
buzzing through, she snaps out that tongue
almost 6 feet to bring it in! That trick still
amazes me every time.
I'd say she's more frog than person by now in move
and look. She hasn't lost an inch, but she hasn't
said a word in almost six months, near two years
since the frogness started setting in. A
five-foot frog takes some getting used to for
sure, but I bet you could do it too. If you had
to. Sometimes I wonder how much she still gets of
what's going on. Was that a wink she just put to
me after she's swallowed?
Then Louis comes running out of the kitchen, teeth
clenched and barred, eyes wild, and a whole hot
pizza in his hands. And he runs over to me and
starts hitting me in the face with it, and
screaming like murder. So I turtle because it's
fresh and that hot cheese hurts like hell. He
gets done with all that pretty quick, and then
he's breaking down on the floor bawling and
apologizing. And I'm trying to tell him it's okay,
I'm fine, I get it, don't worry about it. They
say the wracks are worst in the first few months
of the turn. It gets better. If you'll call it
that. He's calming down.
When a pepperoni falls off my ear to the floor,
some rat shoots out from the couch for it. She
doesn't get half a bite, though. A black tentacle
that I guess snuck in the open door, grabs her
with a squeak as it pulls her away and out, as
quick as you'll imagine. So maybe I'd better go
upstairs to wash.
