Today's 100 words:
I remember watching the last episode of M*A*S*H with my dad, he in his favorite green armchair and I on the floor with my back pressed up against the couch. It's one of those snapshot moments I can remember from my childhood, small vignettes of things I did or said, the ones that for whatever reason have stuck with me all these years. I remember asking my mom once what M*A*S*H stood for, and when she told me--Mobile Army Surgical Hospital--I said it over and over again for weeks, like a chant or an incantation.
