Monday morning metaphors
On mornings like these when I slip into the office unseen and unheard, a lyrical feeling washes over me. Unless I'm in the mood to accomplish great things for the day, I will spend the whole morning looking for thoughtful bites on the news pages. I review my friends on LJ to lurk in the shadow of their weekend's accomplishments.
Mine too? We went to Houghton lake on Saturday and spent an enjoyable outing only briefly interrupted by a tantrum and a half having to do with water splashing and my daughter's cold bathing suit. My new friend tells me that they close the park at dusk. That's not so bad considering we were there almost the whole day. I had to disappear briefly into the woods because the restrooms had closed. Suppose I could have went into the lake, there was already plenty of toilet paper in the water.
My mother arrives this week. I will once more have to explain daily to her that I don't get to sleep early, that my business is still in a baby stage, that I cannot effectively help her search for a mate, that I don't dislike the garden but that she'll be the one to tend to it. She usually understands and tells everyone she knows how much I help and what a good soul I am. I have a soft spot for her regardless of the circumstances. I remember when I was in grade school and on occasion I would forget to do my homework. Right before school the realization would dawn that I am worse than the worst slacker in class. My mother would always reject right away any proposition of staying home sick, plus she would insist that I go straight to the teacher and just tell her flat out that I played all day yesterday and completely ignored my homework. The teacher never really believed me but I always relished that feeling of relief that came as soon as I admitted my failure before class even started.
Mine too? We went to Houghton lake on Saturday and spent an enjoyable outing only briefly interrupted by a tantrum and a half having to do with water splashing and my daughter's cold bathing suit. My new friend tells me that they close the park at dusk. That's not so bad considering we were there almost the whole day. I had to disappear briefly into the woods because the restrooms had closed. Suppose I could have went into the lake, there was already plenty of toilet paper in the water.
My mother arrives this week. I will once more have to explain daily to her that I don't get to sleep early, that my business is still in a baby stage, that I cannot effectively help her search for a mate, that I don't dislike the garden but that she'll be the one to tend to it. She usually understands and tells everyone she knows how much I help and what a good soul I am. I have a soft spot for her regardless of the circumstances. I remember when I was in grade school and on occasion I would forget to do my homework. Right before school the realization would dawn that I am worse than the worst slacker in class. My mother would always reject right away any proposition of staying home sick, plus she would insist that I go straight to the teacher and just tell her flat out that I played all day yesterday and completely ignored my homework. The teacher never really believed me but I always relished that feeling of relief that came as soon as I admitted my failure before class even started.