Tuesday was a hard day.
Both kids were sniffly.
There was a snow delay after a snow day, and the walls were closing in on us all.
My little one fell in the garage and busted her lip. Have you noticed lip booboos bleed with the shocking ferocity of a sword wound?
And my hermit crab in the Angry Birds shell passed away. RIP Hermie.
Are you playing your tiny violin for me yet?
|(image by Nazreth via freeimages.com)|
Some days call for shopping. With the promise of an ice cream cone and escalator ride, my bruised baby recovered.
She is a tough little girl and as sweet as (fill in with your own cliché – honey, apple pie, marshmallow fluff, a winning lotto ticket.) I’ve never heard her say one of those rude things kids are known to say. No “Why are you so fat?” or “Why does that man have one eyebrow?” or “Why don’t her shoes match her purse?” So I was floored when she looked down the escalator at a woman with very gray hair and said,
“She looks like she’s almost dead.”
When you become a mother, you learn to feed the baby and don’t shake the baby and use a car seat….blah blah blah. But there’s no lessons on how to not laugh out loud when something inappropriate but hilarious happens.
I bit my lip, I nearly swallowed my tongue, and with quivering cheeks, I squeaked out, “Hmm.”
Then the writer-me started to study my daughter’s facial expressions as she stared at the woman with a horrified expression which can only be described as “watching a trainwreck.” I think she truly expected the woman to take her less breath and then tumble down the rest of the escalator. Perhaps she was worried about having to step over her lifeless body at the end. Maybe she wondered if she would instantly turn to bones.
I could see her imagination running loose. It was exciting and inspiring! I knew then I needed a break from my long focus on revision. My muse wants to have a little freedom.
Have you let your imagination run wild lately?