Mispronounced

It started out as an okay day. It wasn't great, but I had little choice but to live it. A couple of nights before I had fallen ill - my body's way of reminding me (in case I'd forgotten) that I am a woman and not pregnant. I was still feeling the effects two days later.

I clocked in at the Maryland Science Center at 9:15 - the usual time - and was met with a frazzled boss, who began, by way of greeting, telling me that some school groups had scheduled science programs for next week at the last minute, and that Lauren wouldn't be back by then, and that Chris would be busy with something else, so could I please please please substitute for her? I agreed, but only because for once she had said please. Shortly thereafter I ran into Joel, who informed me that his dying mother had eaten applesauce and had a Pepsi yesterday but refused to take her medication, while the day before she had taken her medication but eaten nothing, and how he was going to sue the rest home for their lack of caretaking ability.

The day continued with both its ups and downs. And while some of the day was tolerable, for the most part the minutes crawled by like years, in much the same way that Tortoise did toward the finish line. I couldn't wait to get home - I had an evening of REI shopping and basketball watching planned, which I knew would take my mind off of my pounding head and aching body. Oh, how I wish that my body reacted kindly to drugs! I was glad to reach 2:30 and the beginning of my Science on a Sphere show - I enjoy doing the shows and knew that when it was over I would only have 2 more hours of work. I began my show with a small audience of four: a 4-year-old boy and a 6-year-old girl, and two adults that I correctly assumed were their parents. The children were very interested in the information I had for them about Earth, our moon, and Mars. I cut my show a little bit short, though, making sure that they would have time to get to the Planetarium show at 3. We ended with questions about whether or not humans would ever live on Mars - an interesting prospect, but not a feasible one anytime soon. Either we need to give Mars an atmosphere, or we ourselves have to evolve into a non-oxygen-breathing species.

I turned off my microphone and turned around, ready to reset the Sphere and lock up, when I felt a little hand tugging on my shirt. "Excuse me," the 4-year-old boy said. I turned back around, saw the little boy looking up at me, and bent forward, expecting a question about space and hoping it was something that I could answer.

"Grassy-ass."

He said this very determinedly and distinctly; he was obviously pleased with himself. He watied for a response. I blanched, and tried to formulate a sentence with which to respond. My efforts proved in vain. My mind was instead occupied wondering if I had heard him correctly, what precisely he was implying about my derriere, and how exactly I was meant to handle that comment. I tried to look for help in his mother's direction but my neck muscles failed me and I stayed staring at the boy. Despite all of those thoughts racing through my mind at once, each vying for attention equally voraciously, my face must have looked blank, because the boy said, "It means 'thank you'."

Suddenly a light with the brightness of Alpha Centauri went on in my brain, and understanding dawned. The little boy was speaking Spanish! I laughed, very much aloud, and was grateful to now know what the appropriate response was for his comment. "De nada!" I replied, and the little boy beamed.

My afternoon was definitely made better by that exchange of words, and judging by the brightness of the boy's smile as he walked away, so was his.