The Third Hand

Full credit hasn’t been given to my mouth for acting as a third hand. In fact, I never quite even acknowledged that my mouth functioned like a third hand until I couldn’t use it.

See, I was at the airport preparing to go through security on the way to visit family in Chicago.

This would be my first out-of-state trip since Dec. 2019, when we weren’t thinking about a global pandemic.

I bent down to stick some items into my backpack and went to stick my boarding pass into my mouth to hold. But, unfortunately, I was thwarted by my mask.

At that very moment, I had realized that my mouth had functioned as a third hand. It took wearing a mask to realize that for years, either pens or paper, tickets, my mouth had served another function other than eating and drinking.

Wearing the mask didn’t make me angry. I don’t feel like my freedom is being stolen from me, nor do I consider myself a sheep.

It just is. I want to ride a plane, I need to wear a mask.

It also gave me time to pause. To give credit to my mouth. For functioning as a third hand. Thanks, mouth, for all you do.