Yesterday, as I sat on the couch and tried my darndest to write, I realized that my fingers were frozen solid. Despite the thermometer doing its best to tell me it was a balmy 70 degrees in here, I believe that it told a lie. (I think P.J. might actually have paid it off.) My actual thought to myself was- Good Lord, this blanket is unwieldy. Can’t someone just give me something as cozy yet infinitely more wearable?
Then I realized I was a walking (sitting) infomercial for the SNUGGIE. I experienced a moment that I myself had mocked as unrealistic. Yet there I was. Having a need for something not entirely unlike a Snuggie.
I felt shame. Yet that was nothing compared to what happened a mere two hours later.
I was sitting on the bathroom floor at Nora’s request- to come hear the exciting story line she was reading- and was also listening to Susannah protest her first real nap of the day. Suddenly, I had an almost out-of-body experience; fueled by the buzzing of my children’s voices, the questionable middle of the previous night’s session of Life Questions, and the after-effects of way too much coffee. I leaned my head back against the bathroom door, closed my eyes, and marveled at how GOOD that felt.
The very next thing I knew, I was being nudged awake by an irate preschooler’s foot, telling me that this was NOT “good behavior” and this was NOT “what we do.” (I don’t remember ever having had the Don’t Sleep On The Bathroom Floor convo with her…but she has a mind like a steel trap. She’d know. Also, I had the niggling suspicion that perhaps I shouldn’t be teaching her to sleep on the bathroom floor.)
So, yeah, the first two events were prime examples of my dorkiness (and potential poor circulation) and conditional narcolepsy. It wasn’t a banner day in terms of self-image.
But then the craziest thing of all happened:
Which, let’s be honest, was rather off the charts.
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