What’s In Our Heads These Days?

My wife contends it’s all brain, no fillers.

Courtesy of Pixabay.

“All human knowledge is moonshine.” H.L. Mencken

I have to hand it to my obsessive compulsive wife, an emphasis on “obsessive” and “wife.” Before she attacks the shelves of our local grocery store, she’s made it clear nothing must pass our lips that isn’t expertly vetted. By “vetted,” and “expertly,” she means she’s going to know the contents of everything we eat or die trying.

I have nightmares of her dying in the cereal aisle, a box of Cheerios in her hand. She’ll be reading the nutritional content without her glasses. This will cause an embolic clot to ping pong around her brain before doubling back to her left ventricle.

Then I wake up, and there she is, checking the side of an ibuprofen bottle for possible swelling, stiffness, etc.

If it ain’t good — in the true sense of good, meaning we don’t grow extra eyes — then it must be trash.

“This causes osteoarthritis, rheumatoid arthritis or juvenile arthritis,” she reads before tossing the bottle in the trash.

If it ain’t good — in the true sense of good, meaning we don’t grow extra eyes — then it must be trash. We throw out a lot of stuff because…