The Elasticity Of Delight Minor Incident
By Rob Morris
Dr. Leonard Hofstader recalled Ralph Kramden's remark that his mother-in-law's Christmas and New Year's visits were actually her arriving during New Year's and staying till the coming Christmas.
In fact, he recalled the old sitcom remark every time his mother, Dr. Beverly Hofstader, visited with her stories of uber-success that never included any of his own and remarks that usually were countered by how obvious they were.
But this visit now ending, had been brief, and very impromptu, and as most awkward situations in his life these days tended to go, was started by an unknown invitation from his friend and colleague, Dr. Sheldon Cooper, who barely hid his delight at this sense of awkwardness, and who of course would never ever admit it.
But for all of Beverly's 'experimental, clinically chosen' words and for all of Sheldon's pokes that were of course never pokes, that's just how others perceived them, Leonard had become a very patient man in some venues, and this was about to become such a venue, and that patience was not for the visit to end, but for the moment to strike.
"Tell me, Mom – is Sheldon a favorite of yours?"
He had carefully edited out any reference to himself, or her affection, or exact ranking and kept it out of claw range – he hoped, and that hope was met. Beverly even seemed to slightly smile as she tapped Sheldon's hand, as close to an intimate gesture as either would casually give.
"For once, an insightful question, Leonard."
Sheldon's grin was, as is said, devouring feces for miles around them.
"Yes, Sheldon is my favorite –"
The grin began to take in all stool for the state of California. This would not last.
"…nearly-functional spectrum resident. Ta!"
With that, she left, and Leonard immediately saw the results. The grin and all it had taken in from the sewers had been replaced with a blank empty stare. Sheldon sat down with a slight thud – and not in his treasured spot, or at least far enough from it that it was startling – and for one, joyous.
For hours, he merely sat there, still staring. After a certain point, Penny stopped by, and offered up her standard take on matters.
"Ok, did he have a statue of himself made? Because they got the ears all wrong."
Leonard described what had happened, and was lightly chastised.
"How do you know he didn't have a stroke?"
Leonard pointed to a small separate monitor on the wall.
"He checks his own vitals. He can even print them out."
"Hmph. I thought that was a badly functioning weather readout. So – Chinese?"
Leonard again waved his hand in front of Sheldon's face, and even tapped his shoulder, to no response.
"We're having Pizza."
Penny shook her head.
"Umm—his schedule says it's Chinese night."
Leonard gave a slight nudge, again no response.
"And yet we're having pizza."
Penny liked this sudden if creepy assertiveness.
"Maybe we're having something else, too."
"Awesome! But first, Pizza."
"Yeah I'm starved."
Hours after that, Sheldon finally processed what he needed to, and blurted something out to no one in sight.
"Near-nearly functional? NEARLY FUNCTIONAL?"
He then saw the pizza boxes and a few leftover slices.
"Pizza Night? How long was I out for? My shock must have been so profound, it broke the time-space continuum!"
Seizing the moment (and with Penny's urging) Leonard let this confusion continue for days to come.
And there were no more unscheduled visits from Beverly – that Sheldon had a hand in, anyway.