Wordgames

My mom is on her stomach, legs halfway off the bed, practicing her deep breathing as she lets gravity do the work in straightening her knee. She had a full replacement a week ago and this is by FAR her least favorite PT requirement. There have been quite a few “F gravity”s.

Clare and I are sprawled out on the bed next to her, trying to provide some much needed distraction.

Apparently mere conversation is not enough because “let’s play a word game or SOMETHING,” Mom groans out.

Clare and I look at each other.

“H!” Mom shouts into the blankets.

Ah, okay. That word game. Everyone goes around saying 1 letter where the next letter up will make a word. But you can’t actually make a word. So when you’re at F-A, you might want to say R for “fart”. But you can’t because FAR is a word.

We play a couple rounds before I get hit with a G-I. Gi? The heck? I think. Then it comes to me. “G-I-A.” I say confidently. Clare starts to laugh. I’m not positive why she’s laughing. This word isn’t exactly hilarious?

“Uhhh I don’t know how to spell this,” she says. Mom starts muttering things under her breath. It’s been about 7 minutes, which is when it really feels the worst. “Can I google it for spelling?” Clare asks.

“Sure, go for it,” Mom and I agree.

She googles and her brows furrow.

“R.”

Yep, that’s the word I’m thinking about. For sure.

“R? What the heck??” Mom moans from her tightly gripped sheets. I giggle. Finally we’ve gotten her.

“Say D!!” I say. She complies. “i!” I call out.

“i?????” Clare exclaims.

“Uh, yes?”

“Uh, we are not thinking of the same word.”

“You’re not thinking of giardiniera??”

“Larkin, what the heck is giardiniera?” Mom’s looking at me now, head out of the comforter.

“The fermented stuff you put on your sandwich! What were YOU thinking, Clare??”

Silence.

Let’s just say… not giardiniera.