March Break, day one
My friend Margot is working mornings Monday Wednesday and Friday this week, so our friend Collette was watching her kids this morning and I'm watching them Wednesday morning (I don't know about Friday -- maybe's she's dropping them off at the pool hall with twenty bucks and their health cards). Collette came over with her three and Margot's two, so we had three girls and four boys. The girls drew little pictures and broke food into tiny pieces for the fairy that lives in Eve's room. The boys were engaged in various intellectual pursuits in the basement. Collette and I were bettering ourselves with a physics program in the family room. We fed the kids some healthy organic fare for lunch.
It was arduous. It was exhausting. Margot owes us big.
Tonight Matt and I are going on a date -- dinner and the symphony. I got him tickets for his birthday, which really is a gift, because he loves the symphony and I...well, I love classical music. I don't so much get the concept of watchcing people play it. My mind wanders, or I get fixated on the second violin's moustache, or I wonder if the piccolo player and the bassoonist are doing it, and then I realize I've missed the whole second movement and I feel guilty because we spent good money to be here. Then I think about last week's episode of Lost and wonder about Jacob's inherent goodness or evil, then I pinch my arm to focus myself. It'll be fine. He'll be happy. I'll have lovely background music for my inane musings. I suppose there are worse ways to spend the evening.
As usual, links brought to you by Mary-Lynn's unfathomable awesomeness.
It was arduous. It was exhausting. Margot owes us big.
Tonight Matt and I are going on a date -- dinner and the symphony. I got him tickets for his birthday, which really is a gift, because he loves the symphony and I...well, I love classical music. I don't so much get the concept of watchcing people play it. My mind wanders, or I get fixated on the second violin's moustache, or I wonder if the piccolo player and the bassoonist are doing it, and then I realize I've missed the whole second movement and I feel guilty because we spent good money to be here. Then I think about last week's episode of Lost and wonder about Jacob's inherent goodness or evil, then I pinch my arm to focus myself. It'll be fine. He'll be happy. I'll have lovely background music for my inane musings. I suppose there are worse ways to spend the evening.
As usual, links brought to you by Mary-Lynn's unfathomable awesomeness.
Comments
One of the groups they mentioned were symphony players, who apparently use beta blockers to keep them relaxed. It's a way of coping with the performance anxiety when everyone's looking at them. I will never look at classical musicians the same way again.
p.s. I'm pretty sure that the piccolo player and the bassoonist broke up after that whole incident with the cellist, the Ouija board and the butter.
p.p.s. I dunno what I'm talking about either.
mary-lynn, i heard it was "i can't believe it's not butter" and a set of dominos. crazy how things get distorted.