In got me in a haiku mood:
The baby won't cry
While he eats. I hate to sweep.Serendipity.
Just in case you're wondering if this is a pattern of slovenly mothering, here is a story from a few years back. Bryan was about 18 months. I had just thrown away a bag of stale chips. While trying to do something (urgent, no doubt) on the computer, I heard the unmistakable sound of chips pouring on to the floor...
Me: (internal monologue) They're in a bag in the top of the trash so they aren't THAT dirty, and they should keep him busy for another five minutes or so. (Five minutes later I go sweep up the chips, dump them into the trash can and return to the computer. Fast forward another few minutes.)Sound from hall: Thunk, crumble. (pause) Thunk, crumble. (pause)...
Enter Bryan carrying a kitchen trash can almost as tall as himself and occasionally dropping it to eat a few chips directly from the trash. Awesome.
I really could not love Issa more. You would also like the Godfather of haiku, Basho. I started out loving the silliness of haiku, but I've really gone head-over-heels for the classical form. Ten points for startin' 'em young. :)
ReplyDeleteOh, and I can see that your mathematical skills have been put to good use in the equation there: "(5 minutes of peace/5% chance of germification)sneaking suspicion this won't end well = meh. I'll risk it."
ReplyDelete:P love it.
Puts a smile on my face to read your blog. I see a toddler in that picture of Rand. How is that possible?? Love you.
ReplyDeleteNan