There's Something Different About You...

A friend/coworker came up to me while I was ushering my students to the bathrooms or special or whatever. She looked a bit different, but I could not put my finger on it.

I was all, "Buffy, are you okay?" (Not that her real name is Buffy, but wouldn't that be cool to have a friend named Buffy?)

She started laughing. But only on half her face. The right side remained stoic.

"Are you drunk?" I whispered, even though my students were well out of ear shot. And even though if Buffy was drinking at 9:45 in the morning, I might have to stage an intervention.

Nope. Not drunk. But she's still smiling. It's like I'm conversing with The Joker.

"Did you have a stroke? Can you raise your right arm? Say a coherent sentence for me." I demanded.

No. She did not stroke out. Still laughing. Sort of. Business on the right side, party on the left.

"Botox?" I asked intrigued.

No. But now that I know she's not in danger of a stroke, a victim of bad Botox, or in need of intervention,  I'm laughing hysterically and tears are welling up in my eyes and I'm starting to wheeze. Damn the asthma to hell.

My students are looking back at me like I am crazy. Only because they can't see Miss Buffy's face. Because if they could, surely she would be the one getting quizzical stares.

Apparently Buffy's dentist is fond of the numbing injections before doing work. She was brave enough to come in to work afterwards. I don't think I would have been that brave.

She even sent me a picture of herself that I keep on my phone, so when I am sad or need a smile, I can look at it and laugh.

I am a horrible friend, aren't I?

Six more days of school!