ubs low walk home. Half mile to go. I feel low.
No glucometer this short walk. Contents Bigfoot pocket: dog poo bag, phone. Bubs’s backpack contain emergency packs Mike and Ike. No meter.
BIGFOOT: Let’s bust out the Mike and Ikes!
BUBS: No way. I’m not going to eat before I test
BIGFOOT: If you feel low, you have to have sugar. Stop walking so I can get the Mike and Ikes out of your backpack
BUBS: No! What if I’m high?
BIGFOOT: We can fix that when we get home. But if you feel low, I’m sure you’re low
BUBS: No way. What if I’m like, a thousand, and the Mike and Ikes kill me?
BFOOT: It doesn’t work that way. You’d have to be high for a long time, and I know that you were 121 fifteen minutes ago, because Mrs. Nurse told me, so you definitely have insulin working in there, and you’re not going to die from eating candy no matter what
BUBS: I’m not?
BF: But if you’re low, that’s dangerous—especially since we’re walking. Just put a Mike and Ike in your mouth and then we can keep walking and I won’t keep talking about it
BUBS: No. And if you keep telling me to eat candy before I test, I will stop right here. Why are you always so mean to me?
This point Bigfoot pretty sure Hypoglycemic Ridiculous Personality Disorder take over. Consider options:
- Tackle. Put Mike and Ike in mouth, clamp hand over mouth so no spit out (FUTILE)
- Tackle. Wish for frosting tube. Chew up Mike and Ike in own mouth, mother bird masticated candy into unwilling child (GROSS)
- Try walk faster while appease HRPD (STUPID?)
- Put vision passing out child away in brain-attic drawer, attempt act normal (BEST BIGFOOT CAN DO)
Rest of walk home Bubs stomping boots My! Feet! Itch! (That some sign? Mean some hypo thing?) Then neck itch. Then back itch! Then almost home, Bubs stops walking, kicking big frozen snowbank in attempt scratch foot deep inside snow boot. (Bigfoot say come on! Bubs say Wait! I’m trying to scratch it!) Then one house away, almost home: neighbor pull out of driveway, new car Hiiii! We’re car twins now! That make Bigfoot feel must stop chat so not seem unhappy neighbor select same car.
BF: Oh, right! Ooh, but yours is such a pretty color
BUBS: (stomp, stomp, stomp)
NEIGHBOR: Is it?
BF: I love it! Well, I hope you love it!
NEIGHBOR: Better than the van (rolls eyes)
BF: (Shit! Now neighbor has maligned van, how can get away? Need kind word re old van or will insult neighbor.) I think this car still has plenty of room; I’ve never really had (trying here for tone to imply “the blessing of”) a van though. (Shut up shut up go home stop talking! Why can’t I stop talking?)
BUBS: (stomp, kick, stomp) Mom?
At last: home. Bubs I’m starting to feel dizzy. Bigfoot too. Wash hands, seem take forever realize not time for wash hands, time for poke dirty, cold hand. 5 (prepare for 20-something), 4 (close your eyes), 3 (squint), 2 (close), 1, open
Then post-hypo ravenosity: You know what I really want, even though it’s kind of breakfast-y? A PANCAKE. Wouldn’t that be so good? And after that a grilled cheese sandwich and a nice cup of hot cocoa. Doesn’t that sound like it would taste so good right now? And Mama, could I also please have one glass of water? Are you going to say no? I’m sorry. I’m just really hungry. So…how much carbs is that going to be?
Bigfoot pretty keen Daily Drop Cap dot com.