Paraphrased (and exaggerated for effect) news article I read recently: Family members say that the man who got lost in the wilderness for two weeks before falling into a ravine and subsequently devoured by wild animals lived life “without regret.”
Me: I’m willing to bet there was at least a little regret there at some point!
Today’s To-Do List:
Decorate house enough to show we’re ready for trick-or treaters – CHECK
Cobble together a costume that doesn’t require me to shave – IN PROGRESS
The bad news is because I’ve been ill lately I haven’t been able to get the house decorated for Halloween.
The good news is because I’ve been ill lately I look ghastly enough that I won’t need a costume.
After posting yesterday, someone (having correctly divined that yesterday’s quote meant that I was indeed sick) recommended that I pack it in and go to bed early. I laughed at this yesterday because I didn’t feel that bad, I was just have a bit of difficulty focusing.
The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit.
– Direct attribution uncertain, closest confirmed attribution of sentiment seems to be W. Somerset Maugham
Me: (After dragging around the entire morning.) Kiddo, I’m not sure that I’m sick today, but I’m going to act as if I am. I mean I’m going to take care of myself like I would if I was sick, not that I’m going to start going around acting sick.
My son: Yeah, that would be bad.
The following is an excerpt from a play my son and I were having the other day:
The Narrator (a.k.a., my son): You find yourself in one of “those” houses.
The Not-So-Brave Hero (a.k.a., me): (Thinking we must be thinking of different houses, but deciding to go with the joke anyway.) Really? But I don’t have any money!
The Narrator: (Ignoring me) You find yourself in the house of a grumpy cat.
The Not-So-Brave Hero: A grumpy cat house, you say? It’s grumpy because I don’t have any money, isn’t it?
“Try this,” L’s Mother said to me yesterday while she handed me a dubious looking fried chip.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s . . . something,” she replied. When I looked at her askance she added, “It’s difficult to describe.”
So I tried it.
“Wow . . .” I said slowly. “The drywall really brings out the taste of the ceiling plaster, doesn’t it?”
Jokes about my caffeine intake aside, I really have scaled back. These days I measure my intake in (literal 8 oz.) cups as opposed to pots.
It’s incredibly satisfying watching my son grasping a new concept.
It’s incredibly humbling to go back over some past entries here and getting a fresh reminder that I’m still struggling with some decidedly old concepts.
