As it turns out, I’m slightly normal

(I'm pretty behind in posting columns...sorry!  I'll catch up this week!)

“I have to send you this article,” my mother said over the phone.  “It was practically written for you.  It’s called “Are you normal or nuts” and I found in the Reader’s Digest and according to this article, you’re actually not nuts!”
Seeing as these were such pleasant words and I’ll gladly accept any confirmation that I’m normal even if it is from my unconditionally loving mother, I prodded her to continue describing the article and finally reading to me.
The words were comforting in the wake of one of those life events that you swear are being filmed for a hidden camera video and that found me making a complete fool of myself in a public place.  I am well aware that I have an emotion problem, or rather a problem containing my emotions.  At any given program at my child’s school or church, at even slightly sappy movies, or even for no good reason at all, my eyes turn into water faucets.  Crying, for me, is a completely normal thing in times of sadness, happiness, and especially onion slicing.  I even cry during times of extreme humor, which is where our story begins…
My husband sent me a text telling me to stop at the store and pick up a medicine for our dog’s eye cyst, which I considered to be a totally legitimate chore.  In my heart of hearts I thought that after their visit to the vet that morning, I had a prescription to pick up at a human-type pharmacy.  It’s happened before, so I thought nothing of it.  So during a night of shuffling children and running other errands, I popped into the local grocery hub and wandered to the back where the pharmacy was located.  After waiting in line, I told the technician that I was here to pick up medicine for my dog’s eye.  Unable to find it, she checked through everything and even waited to confer with the busy pharmacist.
During all of that, I was texting my husband in confusion, making sure this was the correct pharmacy and what name the prescription was under, and his response was not something I expected.
“I was joking.  There’s no prescription.  R U seriously asking the pharmacist???  Lol.”
I thought I was going to die, right after I killed him for making me feel like a fool.  There I was, explaining to the pharmacy about my old dog’s eye cyst with medical detail.  
Once I got his self-confessing text, “lol” is what I did.  Trying to keep my laughter at bay, I explained to the technician that it must have got sent to a different pharmacy and turned around to quickly slink away with my uncontrollable snorting laughter.
Was it that funny of a situation?  Probably not to the average person, but at that moment in my life, it was funny.  Reeeeally funny.  And I, victim of my own extreme emotion, absolutely lost it.  By the time I reached the front of the store, I was in full convulsive sobbing, tears streaming down my face, unable to breathe and contorting my face into deep frowns.  I nearly ran into a man who certainly thought I was just delivered awful news, and as I made my way past the check out lanes, I tried my hardest to get out between sobs, “it’s ok.  Nothing’s wrong.  I’m just laughing.”  (I felt I needed to explain the spectacle of myself because people were starting to stare.)
It took hours before I could calm myself down between laughs and tears and ended up not killing my husband.
Sounds crazy, but according to what my mother read, I’m not as nuts as you’d think.  Experts say that crying is just a response of an emotional extreme, whether it be happy or sad, good or bad.  And in the end that makes me a totally normal person, with a big heart and an even bigger funny bone. 
(But no eye cyst medication for my dog.)

End note:
RIP Belle, 1999 - 2012
You were one heck of a smelly, wild dog.


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