I don’t necessarily fall every time I go running (grimace), but I do fall often enough to have pondered over why, from an evolutionary perspective, nature didn’t select for . . . much more plushly padded palms! Maybe our cave man ancestors were just . . . not as clumsy as I am? Or maybe they just . . . fell on their behinds a lot? (That would surely explain all of what’s going on back there.) Heh heh. I’m funny. . . .Though I really didn’t feel very funny when I tripped over that like five-measly-inch-high chain across my running path yesterday. I really thought – right up until I was falling (inadequately-padded palms spread and ready to take the brunt of the impact) – that I was . . . gracefully dashing over the chain. Sigh.
Also, Abe thought he was pretty clever the other day when he saw me wearing this sweatshirt and said, “Don’t you know that ‘sad’ is actually the new ‘happy’?” (Note: I’m, off and on, a big fan of chocolate Twizzlers. I’ll be honest though. No matter how many you eat . . . it’s still like you haven’t eaten even one. They never satisfy.)
Anders is super questiony lately. Some of his questions have some depth – “When will we die?” and “What happens when we die?” are favorites. He’s never content with my answers though. I’m tempted to start replying with things like, “Oh, that’s when you get lot’s of candy.” But most of his questions are much less weighty. He is deeply interested in who and what have . . . bums (shrug). Does our dog have a bum? Does spider-man have a bum? How about the Lego spider-man? Does he? Here are just a few (so so few) of the questions I remembered to jot down recently:
How do we have feet?
Are trains from heaven?
What’s wrong with my tummy?
What’s a buffalo?
Do penguins go potty every night?
Do we put soda in our nose? Do we??
Do alligators have hearts? (That one was a refreshing change from . . . bums.)
(Darn straight I drew that c3po and r2d2 “off the cuff”. Anders demanded it and was not put off by my “I don’t know how to.” Turns out I DID know how! Who knew? . . . Though Jesse, upon seeing them later, seemed rather unimpressed by c3po’s face. But I can’t just . . . be a master on the first go. Can I?)
The other day Jesse sighed contentedly as he surveyed the Saturday morning happenings of our home and said, “When I’m a dad, I’m gonna’ have a lot of kids – playin’ and cryin’ around.” Pretty accurate description of what we have created here. A bunch of kids playin’ and cryin’ around.
He also reported this after school yesterday:
“My teacher said if you run away from a bear it will chase you, but if you just walk away, it won’t. But . . . it seems like it would be pretty hard to just walk away from a bear.”
Yah, well, maybe so, but count yourself lucky, kid. At least you get to walk away. In my day we had to just drop down and play dead the minute we saw a bear. How’s that for hard?
Oh, and back to kids “cryin’” around. The other day I heard Anders yell angrily, “Nobody will be my friend in this WHOLE FLAMILY!” Which might have made me feel sad for him, but everyone was just sitting about, minding their own business, and looking plenty friendly. Plus, he said, “flamily”. There’s no room for pity when someone says that.
And, . . . little Summerkins. I put her to sleep with her pants on. Somehow, look: they’re just snuggled up to her little tummy. I adore her with her . . . feet . . . and legs . . . and sleepiness . . . and snuggled jammie bottoms.
Speaking of feet. Sometimes she just suddenly re-discovers them. And it’s very much like, “Oh! Hello appendage. I’d forgotten I had you.”
She’s pretty cute. And look! Baby profile! (Every bit as grand as baby feet!)
Lastly, It’s best if Mike never knows what things I eat around here all day. (Well, I mean besides all the treats. He already knows about those.) I mean in the “real” food department. He doesn’t like . . . weird things . . . especially multiple weird things. But . . . the more strange things I can find to mix together? The happier I am. “Oh! There is leftover taco meat! And some sweet potatoes even? What’s this? Tomatoes? And beans? This is . . . such a lucky fridge trip!” And into the same bowl they all go and off to the microwave. Together. Today I think my lunch was maybe . . . a burrito? I don’t know. There was a lot of . . . stuff . . . and it was all in a tortilla shell with . . . salsa and ranch dressing. It made me unnaturally happy (and was far more fulfilling than chocolate Twizzlers – though I certainly wouldn’t have minded topping it off with some of those, had they been around).