Last night, after the girls were in bed, and the kitchen was cleaned and the dog walked, I sat down to write. There was plenty to say; my notebooks overflow with my scratching, and we'd just spent a wonderful weekend celebrating the holiday with the uncles, but what I wrote read like a fourth grade essay on the founding fathers. Dull, painfully so, the words would not, could not dance as I like them. They dragged along, waiting for someone, me I suppose, to turn up the music.
Three days of running around the city chasing two forty year old men and two four year old girls clearly was too much, my brain exhausted from all the mind erasing fun. Unable to put two words together in reasonable order I shut down the computer and went to bed.
Tomorrow we dance, tonight we sleep.
NorthSideFour: You're never too old, too wacky, too wild, to pick up a book and read to a child. Dr. Suess
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