Gut Reaction

Amazing, the things you find when you gut yourself with a whaling knife. All those little things you thought you misplaced or that the guy doing construction on your kitchen cabinets stole when you left the house for five minutes to go down to the corner store to get a cup of coffee (and one for him, too, the no-good lout!) or that your cat, Bootsie (yes, I see his one paw is white and the rest are black! oh yes!), hid or ate … well, they haven’t been misplaced or stolen or hidden or eaten. They voluntarily found their way into your intestines (large and small), where they planned to nest comfortably for the rest of your life. And you would never know about them because even if they did occasionally interfere with your ordinary bodily functions — it’s not their fault, they just can’t help themselves! — you would never suspect that the thing giving you such hideous spiraling pain was that little notebook where you keep all your super-secret ideas, thoughts, and dreams or your favorite pen (the one with the really flowy ink, the one you almost lost a friendship over because you blamed that liar for taking it after he admired it when you let him use it to sign for that package that time).
So you can imagine my combined delight and horror when I discovered that yesterday’s excruciating visceral pain was caused by the oddest array of objects. Excavation and identification of these items is a slow and somewhat painful process, but here is a list of what I’ve managed to catalog thus far:

  • A time capsule from the year 1944 with a note beseeching its finder not to open it until 2004. This made me feel like one of those wooden Russian dolls that contains within itself a smaller wooden Russian doll within which is a still smaller one, until finally the doll is so small that it is just two wooden Russian atoms wondering what’s going on.

  • Saturday, 17 November 1984, from 5:18 p.m. until 11:22 p.m.
  • Bonne Belle Lip Smacker in maple-walnut flavor
  • Two (2) avocado pits, just starting to sprout
  • One (1) wooden round “tuit”
  • My maternal grandparents (what a coup!)
  • Eight-track tape of Queen’s “Jazz” (a bit garbled on the “Fat Bottomed Girls” track)
  • A Wacky Packages punch-out card for Skimpy Peanut Butter
  • Monopoly playing piece (thimble)
  • Baby tooth (incisor) in tiny plastic treasure chest

Of course, I am extremely relieved to learn that the cause of my upheaval wasn’t the flu. I hear those shots are painful!