The morning started as all others with coffee and pink clouds. We had a white rabbit sighting in the yard and a ‘poopy’ who didn’t quite make it through the night. We had oatmeal, PBS kid, and more coffee.
I had been waiting for today ever sense Wednesday when I began thinking every day was Sunday. It has been Sunday for 5 days in a row. But as I stood in the kitchen by the wood stove the little scientist nowhere to be seen or heard something didn’t seem quite right.
There is a note pinned to the shelf in the shower. It is an apology from a child for using my good homemade coffee soap to wash doll clothing. It says: don’t tush [translation: touch] unly for mom. I think you’ve got ‘unly’. Tush makes me laugh.
It reminds me of Conner three years old sitting, pouting, in a yellow sequined ballet dress which belonged to his older sister. One of the little babies I keep during the day crawled over to him drawn no doubt by the sparkly dress. Conner indignantly pulled his skirt away and in his most serious cowboy voice he growled, “Don’t touch me in my girl dress baby!”
As it turns out there is nothing wrong with this day, it is just me. I need a little perspective from somewhere in the grey.
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