Over the years, Nick has provided me - and my friends and colleagues - with a wealth of amusement and entertainment. Much of it at his own expense. Yesterday, we were reliving some of the highlights:

Nick (with a sense of urgency in his voice): Mom? Mom - I ate a berry that I saw on a tree. Am I gonna die?”
Moi: Gee, Nick - I don’t know. Why would you do it in the first place if you weren’t sure.
Nick: I dunno. I was curious.
Moi: Next time, don’t be so curious.

——

Nick (with a sense of urgency in his voice): Mom? Mom - there’s a naked lady on my computer. What do I do? What do I do?
Moi: Reboot Nick, reboot!

——

Nick (with a sense of urgency in his voice): Mom? Mom - there’s something stuck in my nose and I can’t get it out. Am I gonna die?
Moi: What is it Nick?
Nick: I dunno.

(After much questioning, he admitted to having stuck the tip of a mechanical pencil up his nose.)

Moi: Well, how’d it get there?
Nick: I was trying to get a boogie.

That’s just gross!

I don’t know what made me think about it, but I woke up this morning with a memory of something that happened a while back and it made me laugh all over again. I will somehow try to convey it in my morning message.

Things that are OK to keep on your beside table:

• A lamp so you can see when you hear things go bump in the night
• A book or two … the current copy of Cosmopolitan is on mine, right underneath the book I’m reading, “Too Good To Leave, Too Bad to Stay”
• A bottle of water - just in case you want to stick someone’s finger in it to see their reaction
• Your glasses - so you can see the alarm clock in the morning or the number on your cell phone when it rings at 3AM
• Some eyedrops - because heaven knows when you might feel the need to lubricate your eyes while they’re closed
• breath mints … you never know when you’ll get lucky early in the morning hours and who wants to kiss a fungus mouth?

Ok, those were some things to keep.

Here are some things you may want to put away before slipping off into nodsville:

My day started out like any other day when you have the stomach flu … puking, nauseous, dizzy … but after a nice cold glass of sprite and a few crackers, I was on the road to recovery. I am invincible … I am woman … hear me roar … meow.

However, not letting that get me down, I go about my day. Watch the news, see we’re under yet another winter weather watch for the next three days. Do some laundry, eliminate the ten piles down to eight. Put the dogs out. Put the dogs out. Put the dogs out. (They like to go out a lot, can you tell?) Go to the doctor to get something for this miserable stomach flu. And THAT’s when the REAL fun began.

Precede this with a little unknown fact. I hate paying traffic tickets. Yeah, I get them ALL the time, my foot has way too much lead in it. But in NY, they just send you a bill, ONE time. You don’t pay it, that’s the only notice you get. Three hundred once. Two hundred and eighty the next. Yeah right. File Thirteen. Well it caught up to me two weeks ago when I got pulled over and the Boy In Blue (hereinafter referred to as BIB) informed me I had three outstanding and unpaid fines and my license was suspended.

After getting a Tony award (thank you, thank you all) for my show of utter surprise that I had these, he gave me yet another speeding ticket and another ticket for aggravated driving on a suspended license. And he let me drive away. Well guess what? Guess who I saw yesterday? Yep, THE BIB.

Nick (scrunching his face): Shit! Drinking warm Rockstar is like drinking warm cat piss. yyukk!
Moi: Really? And how do you know what warm cat piss tastes like?
Nick: From the smell. Whatever it smells like is what it tastes like, too.
Moi (mildly amused): You don’t say.
Nick: Yeah. (pointing to his nose and winking) Smell equals taste.
Moi (snickering): Okay, if you say so.

Hey Nick, just keep these immortal words in mind when you get older…
“Tastes like chicken.”

Speaking of tastes like chicken - totally reminds me of a phone call from several years back.