Marvin glanced at his liver spots and sighed. Nothing he could do about it. This was the older, more mature Marvin who didn't agonize over things he could not control. Small annoyances used to eat him up. Late paperboy, gooey pizza, burnt pork chops. Okay, he could control that one, but another sign of maturity was forgiving himself for his imperfections.
He was not a good hugger. Either he went too long, leading to awkwardness or too short, resulting in disrespect. He hugged his pillows for hours until he got the angle, pressure and length of time just right. Now most of the neighborhood waited outside his house for one of his hugs.
Alas, there remained vestiges of his former childishness--making duck noises in church, faking a stroke in a crowded waiting room. Maturing is a process. Cucumbers mature into slush much too fast, while avocados are forever adolescent.
No comments:
Post a Comment