Update: She says OK! quite often, as she did when I was a kid, although she's definitely bumped up the quantity. It's a little hunky-dory closure for every act: changing her pants ("
OK!" i.e "Task complete"), changing the subject (".
...OK!" i.e. "That was nice...What now?"), opening the door ("
OK!" i.e. "Onward and upward!"), looking at miscellaneous papers on the table (
this OK being a kind of interjection in the silence to reassure that she's still present) I've made it a kind of running joke with myself to say OK back, every time. This often amounts to an excruciatingly long ping pong match of OK!s, making me quickly advance to serious concern for my self-destructive commitment to humor, no matter how bad.
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| Her OKs carry on as she walks down the hall and returns to bed. She tucks herself in and I hear another. She'd probably OK! through the apocalypse. |