Bleeding

Bleeding is a catchier title than "Giving Blood" is, but that's what I did this evening. It went well. The best part is usually the end when you get to eat snacks. The end was still the best part, but more so because of my conversation than the snacks. A dad and his first grade son were there because the dad was giving blood. The son may have been a little nervous when his dad had to go into the room for the questionnaire, so the boy decided to talk to me, not the other guy a little older than me sitting by himself, and not the couple sitting together at a fourth table. It started with him explaining to me how to play rock, paper, scissors, shoot. I'm not sure if we were playing best of seven, but he beat me 4-1. Then, he decided he should know my name, so I told him, "I'm Dr. Stevens. What's your name?"

"My name's Lucky, but my class calls me Tarif."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'll call you Lucky then."

Then we played "I spy with my little eye" and then my time was up. I looked up the name of Tarif when I got home to check its spelling, but also found out it means "bold, determined, and tenacious," which I definitely saw in him.