A thing about being a blogger is that about every third thing that happens in a given day is blog-worthy.
Being a blogger in the first place requires some self-discipline. I’m trying to have better self-discipline. Fella would probably argue. He says I am no good with suspending gratification. But that is ungenerous since he has no idea about my inner life.
I would agree that I see more sense in having what you want if it’s available and it won’t hurt you, as soon as you can. But I also know the value of an insane work ethic, of having to commit to a thing and act hard before it can be yours.
I have not yet developed the self-discipline to write down the blog-worthy items as they arise. I would probably never stop writing. That would not be bad.
But we had a really cool time yesterday, Sunday, a couple of times. The weather’s kind of crummy, so we stayed home. I edited a pod cast and wrote an article. Fella wrestled our cluttered abode into a state of lower clutter.
When Child was doing her homework, Fella and I were–in an effort to annoy her into being focused–singing about the beautiful picture she should draw. Of course our song was terrible and we were both doing caricatures of our own voices, but it worked.
She covered her ears and said, “Please don’t sing about my beautiful picture anymore, please please please please.” The homework was done in record time.
Then, we discussed what we should feed her for dinner since Fella made extra-spicy (like burn-on-the-way-out spicy) chili. Fella makes bomb ass chili.
We said, “What do you think we should make Child for dinner?”
“I don’t know. How about snail brains and gruel?”
“Or what about boogies and brain meat?”
Child said, “Ewwww! No! Gross! You guys are really creeping me out.”
Fast forward to dinner. Fella and I spooned our greasy chili onto tortilla chips and Child housed her Grilled-American-on-White with chips, salsa, and a pickle. Yeah. Carbohydrates. What? Salsa is fruit. Listen, sometimes I just give up the fight. Sometimes, it’s better to let her win.
Anyhow, so Child said, “I got a great idea I bet you guys wouldn’t like.”
“You guys put some of that stuff on a chip,” pointing at the chili, “then I put whipped cream on it, then ketchup. Would you eat it?”
“How do you like me now, mommy?” She said this while doing her funny little dance that involves pointing her fingers in the air and sticking her tummy out and shaking it.
No joke. I just about blew chili out my nose.