I love mornings when the kid wakes up at the crack of dawn then falls back asleep on my chest for another hour. I can't sleep with the wiggly thing on me, so I just thought. Here was the train of thoughts this morning:
"The Tao of Pooh. I like the idea of Taoism, but is it so wrong to want to gain knowledge. Even if it is just to be wise or appear knowledgeable? Look at Ken Jennings. It's weird my favorite color right now is green. My 5-yr old self would be so upset. Tums. Tum Tum Tum Tums. I love that Tums spelled backwards is smut. 'What's a little boy like you doing with big boy smut like this?' (10 points and a free lunch when we're in the same city to whoever can name that movie first.)
Abbey's skin is like porcelain. Curse those hours spent at the pool working on a good tan to look like those gorgeous Friden girls. The only summer my skin was even close to the same color as them was the year I was a lifeguard. Curse that lifeguard job. I'd give back the $700 I made that whole summer for some porcelain skin.
Geez, she's a sweaty kid. Is that normal? Should I send out Christmas cards this year? Will my Christmas decorations work in our new house? I need to clean my house. I'll do it today. I said that yesterday then went to the park. I'm a horrible housekeeper. But at least that makes me approachable--you know, flaws. I hope people think I'm genuine. But would I genuinely want people to see my house like this? No. I wouldn't even let a repair man witness this mess if my toilet was flooding over."
At some point during this fascinating, introspective thought process, the kid stirred and woke up. Sweaty and confused. With this face. And this hair.