Although, like texting, I have not yet succumbed to twittering, I have to admit most of the time, the interesting notes of my life do come down to small bits.
Just now, for example, Noodle informed me that she and Q were playing 'Cat and Cellar-person.' I haven't the slightest idea what the second half of that means.
Earlier, as she sobbed because she'd been ripped from the warm bosom of her BFF and brought home, Q asked her, "Noodle? Is New York City going through your head a lot?"
My illness of the past few days has left me with a ragged throat, visiting the pharmacy at 8 at night, where the pharmacist was so kind I wanted to hug him and then use him as a prop to drag myself back to my car. I let the kids watch an hour of unsupervised television yesterday (it started with something benign, but I know it didn't end there). Now Q is singing an ad I find so irritating I'm filled with irrational rage every time I hear it. Let that teach me to not be inattentive.
I had hoped this time off from work while my body temperature whipped up and down like a desert on fast forward would give me time to do homework, but I find myself becoming an increasingly passive observer of life. It took me at least an extra 10 seconds to respond to Q's suggestion, "Let's play that you're a bird and I'm a hunter!" (You know that won't end well.) I become winded just walking up the stairs. Forget folding laundry. It's not likely to happen.
On the bright side, we discovered that Noodle can be motivated. She whipped into top speed when we told her we were running late for preschool this morning.
