The curious incident of the vase in the ballroom

“When I come back, I have some questions about your post today,” said Matt as he walked out of the room to help one of his kids. It took me a minute to register what he was talking about, because my Substack exists in a compartmentalized part of my brain that doesn’t always interact with the real world. I also didn’t know that Matt, our friend/community group leader/neighbor/meat supplier, read my Substack. When Matt came back, his first question was about the “traumatic eye injury” I apparently just breezed past in my post about how Christian and I first met.

This is for you, Matt. (Actually, it’s for everyone else, because I already told Matt the whole story over dinner at community group.)

As I have in other stories of the past, I’ve changed some of the names of people in this retelling.