The exercise:
Write about something or someone that is: getting carried away.
Max had a fantastically cranky day today. Just... remarkably uncooperative. I don't think he did anything we asked him to do without us having to ask at least three times.
So. Much. Fun.
This afternoon I took him into town with me to pick up some things we needed in order to construct a screen door to go on the entrance between our kitchen and our deck. We've only been wanting one of those since the spring after we moved in. Just over five years ago.
Anyway, work finally began after dinner up at Kat's parents garage. Kat's dad, Max, and I got the frame cut out and pieced together and attached the screen. Now we just have to install it, which will hopefully happen sometime tomorrow.
And then, at long last, we can enjoy the cool air coming off the deck without being invaded by flies.
Mine:
"Are you all done cleaning up your toys, sweetums?"
"Yes, Mommy!"
"All set for your bedtime snack then?"
"Yes, Mommy!"
"What would you like in your yogurt tonight? Blackberries or nectarines?"
"Yes, Mommy!"
"Hah, I should have known. All right, coming right up."
"Thank you, Mommy!"
"Here you... hey. Where's your little brother?"
"All cleaned up and put away, Mommy!"
2 comments:
Did Max ever explain what was making him cranky? I usually find I'm at my second-least co-operative when I'm just tired and really want to be left alone. (I'm at my least co-operative when I can see someone really wants me to be co-operative but won't actually come out and ask me directly.) Still, the screen door sounds good. I hope you're leaving a little snake-flap there so that Mr. Wriggles doesn't feel unwelcome after you install it!
Hmm, I really liked the "Yes" response to "Blackberries or Nectarines" (not least because I knew that was going to be the answer), but I wasn't quite expecting the last line, so good work on surprising me. But... this sounds, from previous posts, like it should actually have happened. So where had Miles been tidied away to?
Getting carried away
We're dressed up like humans,
We walk through the hallways,
We nod to each other,
We burble and natter...
We act like things matter.
Masquerade fantasies
Like mayflies in flight last
For only one night then
The music stops playing.
We dress up like humans,
We wonder what drove them,
To circle each other
To talk and to chatter...
Of things that don't matter.
It was just a hundred
To learn why they did it,
And then a few more, and then a few more.
Then they were gone; we had
To study and mimic
And dress up like humans
And walk through the hallways...
[Return to start]
Greg - pretty sure he was tired. I think he's also dealing with the transition from being an only child to being an older brother.
Fantastic poem. Really enjoyed the form you chose, as well as its content. I think the final two stanzas are my favorite, but it's not an easy call.
Post a Comment