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Batshit Crazy by Kelly Mason

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  • Once in awhile, we get the opportunity to see ourselves as other see us. As I ventured out for the Sunday paper, most of my neighbors were shoveling the latest round of snow. They looked up from their labors long enough to take stock of me and here is what they saw. A middle aged woman with a four alarm bedhead hairdo, dressed up in polka dot pajama bottoms, a red plaid flannel robe, snow boots, and a Peruvian pancho. Oh yeah, red gloves. In public. Well, on porch.

    It occurred to me that my neighbors looked in my direction a nano-second longer than politeness allowed. That's when I heard the words inside my head.

    Back in the house, I started to walk by the mirror and stopped short. I took in my reflection - my hair, my regalia. Dropping the paper on the table in front of Bill, I was deep in reflection. Bill skimmed the headlines.

    "What?" he asked. "Oh, nothing..." I said, but he waited. He knew there was more to come."Right now I have two words stuck in my head, like a loop, going over and over."

    "What two words?" Bill asked. I looked up at him, his sweet, sleepy face, his sincere blue eyes.

    "Batshit Crazy." I said. "Batshit Crazy? That's all?" Bill asked. "Yes, those two words, over and over," I said.

    "How are they being said?" he asked, needing more information. I poured a cup of coffee and watched the spiral circles of cream melt in.

    "You know, sort of a monotone, batshit crazy, batshit crazy..." I said. "Oh, ok, as long as it's not too upsetting," Bill said.

    When I looked up, I saw it. For a split second, I saw myself the way Bill sees me.Then he lowered his eyes, reading aloud a headline about what the Governor of Pennsylvania was up to now.

    I was only partially listening. The way he was looking at me, I could have been the queen in a sailor's dream. Instead of the words batshit crazy, a new two word sentence had replaced it.
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