Geddes

Behold the tiles on our bathroom floor! (photo by Lesley Rios)

Yesterday, while Janelle was working at the clinic, Lesley, Eleanor & I headed over to Dey House, at last, to introduce ourselves and confer with the program coordinator. She – the coordinator – was on the phone when we walked in, and was elaborating on her belief that McCain suffered from antisocial personality disorder & was on valium now, supplied, I guess, by the GOP. I dunno. She also said Laura Bush had a facelift and was also on valium. After a minute or so, she hung up the phone and said in this excited, scandalous way, “Sorry. A writer who did this program has written a brilliant roman a clef about the Bush family, and that was the publisher,” or something like that.

I gave her the glad hand and we exchanged pleasantries while Eleanor crawled around on the hardwood floor, wooing the secretaries, then the program director, then this really tall Dominican guy who walked in and said, “That baby’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.” Which, of course, is how things usually go when you travel with a baby. I’m pretty sure I could walk into the IRS headquarters with Eleanor and emerge fifteen minutes later with a handwritten letter from the leader of the Empire guaranteeing me that I’ll never have to pay taxes again – so long as I periodically send photos of the babe. Anne Geddes knows about this Achilles heel shared by anyone who has a heart. Of course, Anne Geddes is also Satanic. But these days, who isn’t?