my cheerful, witty repartee

Today may be the day I’ve made the most mistakes recently. Little ones and medium-sized ones. Mistakes concerning friendships, family, and anything else that might matter to me. Right now I want a break. I want my tummy to stop hurting. I want the slow-motion images of my son falling from a surface 4 feet off the ground to evaporate from my brain. I want a very important person in my life to stop being cruel to me. I want grocery money for my kids and I.

The kids and I took a walk down to Husband’s workplace this morning. The walk was fabulous. There was a bit of cooling fog about – an ephemeral reprieve from the oppressive heat, set to burn off for this afternoon when my son and I sit around the living room in our underwear, chained to my hot little house since the Girl is taking a sticky, three-hour marathon nap – and a lot of boatboys down at the marina, shirts off at 9 o’clock scrubbing paint and hauling plywood around with their buddies and mutts. Husband walked us back to the Park and Ride through the lagoon trail. I used to ride my bike on this trail every day to work when I first moved here. Something about the time of year, the fresh wet smell of fog – doses me with nostalgia for those days. Our daughter dives fearlessly into the tall rush grass, attempting to chase down snakes and beetles. A mama deer strolls the shores on the far side of the water and a heron flies off from ten feet away, startled, with an ungracious honk.

We return home, get The Boy down for a nap, and huddle fearfully in the house. What possible plan can we have to escape the heat and sick intertia of a day already going so sour?

Three-year olds have uncomplicated “owies”
, but may also feel the need to document them for public record.

Comments are closed.