Thoughts I've thunk while sippin' at a cup of tea and reading something provoking, often get dropped here for the benefit of humanity and my own hubris.
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I have finally decided on my ultimate goal for old age. This came to me as I was rubbing my two year old daughter’s feet (she saw my work on Mommy, and wanted in). Anyway, my goal:
I want to be as cute and entertaining to Flora when I am ninety as she is to me at age two.
We all know how the cycle goes … you tend and change your baby’s diapers, and in just a few short years, they are changing yours. I guess the big difference— well, other than the obvious one that Flora can’t settle down for a diaper change, and I will, undoubtedly, not be able to lift my butt high enough— The big difference is that I’m really having a good time. She is so cute and fun and just entertaining (she’s in that stage where entertaining your parents is fun).
I suppose when I’m 90, I could speak baby-talk, but that doesn’t seem as cute. Maybe if I start collecting a series of pointless stories for her entertainment …
© 2003-2005, Howard Abrams • Except where otherwise noted, all original content is licensed under a Creative Commons License (see details).
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