Have you ever had your life flash before your eyes? I have. And when it does, I am always in some kind of parallel universe/alternate reality. I probably shouldn't be talking about this, because it makes me look extremely unstable and fucked up. But here goes.
So I was cleaning out my old dresser this morning. To put that in context, I am a packrat and a slob by nature. I work hard to not let this become a hoarding disorder. One of my worst habits is I will fill something to capacity, for example a dresser, and then move on. Literally. So this is my "old dresser," meaning when it was so full of shit as to become unusable sometime in the last, say, five years, I did not clean it out or empty it. I left it as is and moved on to a new space (in this case, a shelving unit.) This is one of the pitfalls of having a home with more space than you truly need... too many places to fill with shit.
But I digress.
I was cleaning out my old dresser, and came upon an envelope with two little baby teeth in it. And I cannot for the life of me remember or believe that any of my children were ever so small that these tiny teeth, smaller than Tic Tacs, fit into their little mouths. But somewhere in my mind's eye, I can see those little Tic Tac grins and it makes me want to cry. But that is neither here nor there. I found an envelope with two tiny little baby teeth in it, and I wondered whose they were, which child, because the envelope is unmarked. And I am sure if I clean/dig far enough, I'll eventually have four unmarked envelopes with the first lost baby teeth of each of my four children.
And as I am refolding the envelope to put in the "keep" pile, my parallel universe/alternate reality life flashed before my eyes, and in the nanosecond of the blink of an eye:
One of my children was dead. And I came across the little tooth. And through the miracle of modern science, I took the little tooth in for a DNA extraction and had a clone created of my child.
But it was the wrong child. And I ended up with a clone of a child who was still alive.
And from there, things went horrible wrong, culminating in a battle-to-the-death between my real child and her evil clone, in which I ended up pointing a gun at the two of them, having to decide which was real and which was the clone, in order to save her life.
And, poof, back to reality.
Yes, I probably should be on medication.
Also? This is why I hate cleaning.