This morning after finishing my work-out as I was making my back to my belongings I encountered a brutally honest 3 year ago.
“Why are you walking with that stick,” she asked.
“It helps me walk better,” I said.
“So you can be really fast?” she said.
As I pulled on my sweats she continued chatting away, “this is my nana,” motioning to a grey haired woman slightly older than I.
“What’s your name” I asked ?
“Ophelia,” she replied.
“I know a song named Ophelia,” I said as I looked at Nana.
Nana gave me a nod to affirm that I was correct
Then Ophelia looked out at the men playing basketball shirts vs skins.
“Why are they playing naked,” she asked.
“Men can do that sweety, we can’t,” said Nana.
“That man has boobies,” she said pointing at a chubby bball player.
“He doesn’t” motioning at me,.
“Mommy has boobies,” she continues,
Nana stands up, hands Ophelia her coat and says “let this poor man finish getting his coat on.”
I am so glad Ophelia didn’t say I had boobies. That would have shattered my frail male ego
Ophelia The Band
