I work close enough to the San Francisco Bay Area to be feeling the effects of the baseball fever that has spread among residents. (Where were all these fans a month ago? Suddenly I have company.) Nowhere was it more apparent than at my elementary school, where it's Red Ribbon/Spirit Week, and today's theme was Sports Day. Everyone was dressed up in sports gear, much of it in support of the SF Giants. A tiny first grader was in my office, saying her stomach hurt, and I've been doing this job long enough to know that if I can keep them talking and distracted, most stomachaches will soon be cured. She was wearing a Buster Posey shirt, and I asked if she liked Buster Posey:
Tummyache Girl: He's my boyyyyyyfriend.
Me: Oh really? Does he know that?
Tummyache Girl: Well, no, but every time I see him on TV, I go like this [demonstrates fainting].
Me: Well, he's playing tonight and if you have a date to see him on TV, your tummy better start feeling better.
Tummyache Girl: You're right! I have a date! I'll see you later!
And out she skipped. Those are the moments I love my job, much better than the hours I am continuing to spend trying to work with Time Bomb diabetic.
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