At dinner last night with old friends I told a story about a manipulative parrot at another friend’s house.  It was an amusing story, and I told it without frills or fanfare, in about a minute.

“They were there,” Sekhnet said when I’d concluded the short anecdote. My friends nodded.  

I wondered to myself how I could not have remembered that.  It was a little embarrassing.  That my friend, a moment before my story, had retold a parrot story he’d told us before didn’t occur to me until just now.  

I wonder now if I can avoid mentioning the worrisome incident to Sekhnet, who is prone to worry.   It could only serve as another reminder that I might be finally sliding off the deep end.  It certainly feels like the case today.