Yesterday after camp: Whole Foods, Bubs hungry. Like look of greasy pork spring roll in deli case. Bigfoot toss test kit on top of food-heaped cart, tell Bubs test, order spring roll. Leave deli counter for goat cheese department. Come back. Done! BG 157, spring roll in cart. Bravo. No one FFL tell Bigfoot specifically leave child at deli case, but FFL in general encourage independence. Nice. Consider Bigfoot Moira McCarthy-ized.
Next ask Bubs bolus/15g carbs. Bubs I don’t want to bolus for myself. This strange–OK with bloody BG part but not OK with button-pushing part? Bigfoot not make big deal, not goad, not even encourage. Think maybe abandon at deli case use up independence for day. Refined attitude also courtesy FFL. Going with flow. Pat self on back.
Arrive home, Bigfoot Spouse making watermelon margarita. WTF? This summer Bigfoot Spouse become expert mixologist for margarita: Cointreau, lime, ice, tequila. Salt. Blend. Yes, blend! Not be such snob. Delicious. But why mess up w fruity? Rim glass with sugar no salt. Bewilder! Try channel FFL. Try go with flow. Drink sweet cocktail. Still regret. Important lesson: even if master of go w flow, bad drink still bad drink.
This week Non-D camp take place Brown University, very slummy fraternity building. Bathroom sink handwritten sign re plumbing problem–penmanship like roadside stand. (Hypothesis: expensive + prestigious = crappy dorms. Expensive + less prestigious = fabulous dorms, grand piano in parlor.) But Bigfoot not sit in Buxton House. Picnic table in shade outside building. Perfect place for work. Camp 9am-5pm. Bubs and West Bay Bubs use Bigfoot as school nurse. Come out if feel low (not happen yet). Help w/carb count + meal bolus. Very glad diabetic friend here, make diabetes less weird.
Weird part is people think Bigfoot part of camp staff. Stop by picnic table Sorry we’re late! BIGFOOT SMILING GENEROUSLY: I don’t actually work here. THEN, TO ANYONE WHO LINGERS FOR MORE INFORMATION: I’m just here because my son and his friend have Type 1 diabetes. I help them with their insulin and stuff. ONE SPECIFIC LATE PERSON: Oh! I can relate. I have diabetus type two! BIGFOOT HEAR SELF SAYING OUT LOUD ACCIDENTALLY: I won’t even say the stupid thing I bet everyone says to you. About how slim you are. LATE PERSON: Well…I’m sort of frazzled because my daughter has some legal issues and I didn’t even know the way to camp, and I’m just filling in for her. BIGFOOT, GRATEFUL LATE PERSON OVERLOOKED STUPID THING SAID OUT LOUD AND THEN TRUMPED IT WITH TMI RE DAUGHTER’S LEGAL ISSUES: Now that your grandson’s inside, you can go get a nice, relaxing drink (subtext=please offer to bring me a latte. This disgusting Icelandic yogurt left a terrible taste in my mouth and I can’t unscrew the lid on my grapes) LATE PERSON: Now that’s an idea I can get behind!