I had a really good day. Despite carrying Evelyn out to Winco as she screamed, “I want Daddy,” and heads and eyes fell on me, as my quick-paced trot exuded a “There’s nothing to see here” energy. Once in the car, it took a couple of minutes for her to calm, but our talk, about what was not ok, led to both of us locking eyes and saying, “I love you very much.”
Thanks to an article I once read from parenting expert Janet Lansbury, during the entire parenting moment embarrassment and guilt ran off my back like water as I smiled and nodded at grocery shoppers’ knowingly glances.
So even a “bad” thing turned good.
All the things I think of sharing – weed whacking, the frog in the outdoor storage box, Robert, our carpet cleaner, Evelyn’s “That is so cool” following him and carrying the hose room to room, our ritual Taco Friday, outdoing myself on the homemade refried beans, using ten to twenty Q-tips to clean black gunk from the creases in the bathroom’s window – seem all not too interesting. So, to up the ante and get myself to spill the beans (not the refried ones, of course), I ask myself the question, “What if you were going to die tonight, what would you say then?”
Eh. What a downer. I’m not playing that.
Speaking of death, I am offering one of my male Muscovy ducks for free on Craigslist. The terse matter-of-fact replies, “I want to pick up tomorrow,” “Send address,” and “Do you have more than one?” lead me to think he’ll be chopped up for Sunday’s stew. I feel bad about that. Do I try to wait for someone with flowery words like, “Oh goodie! A ducky duck. I have the perfect setup with a heater, fresh pine shavings, and his own bathtub.”
My birth mom Joanne is coming by in the morning, and we’re going to walk the Sumner Link trail together and take Evelyn to the playground. We’ll also take Evelyn to get a new flavor of toothpaste since mint is not her jam lately.
Well, I better get going. I’ll see you here tomorrow. Love ya, Jaclynn.
Going On 40 