Sometimes I wish I had more time.
More time to write. More time to restore/create some order around here. More time to exercise/improve myself/decrease my carbon footprint/learn Latin...who am I kidding? More time to read.
Sometimes I consider how much more time I would have if I sent my little goblin to school instead of working on school plans and negotiating with him to be in a motionless state for longer than five minutes. I wonder how I would spend my days if they didn't include trying to keep Mark writing/reading/adding/subtracting. What would I do with all the time I wasn't spending convincing him that he's not too sick for school, that he'd be plenty warm (and not need to be wrapped in a blanket) if he went and put a shirt on, and that no, we aren't going to snuggle until you are done with math. Would I for once in my life be On Top of It. Whatever It is?
I doubt it.
And the day I trade more time for days without Mark will be a dark day.
I mean, look at the way he makes hot chocolate for me. (The kid knows his way around chocolate.)
|Sometimes Mark and I play Scrabble when everyone else is gone in the evening. I destroy him. I know, he's nine. But still.|
Q: What has a bottom at the top?
Q: What goes ha ha kerplunk?
A: Laughing your head off.
Life is like pizza.
Even when it's bad, it's good.