Bubs at camp. Last minute half-hearted, “I think I won’t go;” as soon as see friend, so smiley, choose bunk, make bed, situate Ugly Dolls, hug goodbye, no trace of worry in eye.
Magnanimous Bigfoot + Spouse let Jack choose lunch location: Bertucci’s. Legendary carbs. Bigfoot beer, arugula watermelon salad + roll. Bigfoot Spouse: pizza, diet coke, rolls. Jack: root beer, pizza, rolls.
Just for placate or coddle neuroses, after lunch Bigfoot bust out Bubs’s meter in car for test: 203. Bigfoot 203. Think Shit, this meter is broken. When test Bubs before camp drop-off, 303. Gave big correction. Maybe should call camp, warn I just discovered that our meter is broken! He’s going to be hypo!
Maybe watermelon residue on finger. Wash fingers alcohol swipe, wash Fastclix too, test again 239. Shit. Either Bigfoot diabetes or Bubs hypo at camp.
For science, test Spouse: 143. Meh. High for non-D person, but maybe normal because lunch so carb. Then test Jack: 295.
Simple matter of: Bigfoot addicted to worry over blood glucose? As soon as Bubs out of sight, shift focus closest person?
But also: data. Data! 295 impossible non-D person achieve, even if root beer/pizza. 2 hour post-prandial, Bigfoot 163. 3 hour pp: 111. Insulin resistant? Not enough insulin? Freaky new kind diabetes? No follow-up test Jack, because not want Jack remember mother so crazy. (Jack A1c week or two ago: 5.4. Pediatrician assure not diabetic.)(Bigfoot also pass A1c test few months ago.)
Meanwhile, Bigfoot/Bigfoot Spouse home alone, only emotionally disturb dog for child. Upon see/hug dog, actually bury face in neck, exclaim you’re my only baby now, as if everybody die and feel so merry. Jack visit grandparents’ home for big screen TV Patriot’s Game + sleepover. Bubs at camp, maybe snug in bunk. This unbelievable luxurious feeling: now we can sleep.