Thursday, November 8, 2007

10 Items Or Less

Last time we talked I was burying a cat. Today we're having a feeding tube surgically installed in another one to try to avoid a repeat performance. Pets are a lot like children in that the things you're willing to do for them seem absurd from the outside and obvious from the inside. I have trouble justifying the additional cost of putting cheese on my hamburger but would gladly trade my laptop so that our cat can continue sleeping for 23 hours a day and walking on my head for the other one.

As for you two, we visited the doctor who is sending us to a new doctor that will be better equipped to handle your twinly needs. We've been told that it's essentially inevitable that despite my warnings you guys are going to put your mom down with some extended bedrest and possibly a host of procedures designed keep you in that little bubble relentlessly punching each other (yes, we saw that). I tend to think that with her bedridden for weeks and me desperately trying to finish a novel in the same house, we're setting up a very Stephen King situation. I don't really have time to explain that to you, but imagine axes, sledgehammers, and pre-birth post traumatic stress disorder.

On the other hand, your mom is getting a little burned out on work. Maybe time off will make her fall in love with it again. Or make it impossible for her to go back. That's what really kills me about our collective situation. For all I know your mom would love to stay home tending your every need as much as I would love to avoid it. I just don't know how to make that happen. Various strikes and so forth have made the movie look impossible for the foreseeable future. Millions of books are written and never published, most of which probably aren't handicapped with a beaver character. And it's hard to see how dunking will improve my breadwinning skills unless there's a circus somewhere that needs me. The truth is, despite accumulating impressive amounts of school debt, I'm not qualified for many jobs that don't directly relate to the movement or checking of groceries. I said you guys worried me because I hadn't really done anything with my life. I think you really worry me because the reality of you will finally make it impossible to keep sitting on the beach imagining a large ship headed my way. On the upside, I really think I could kick ass in an express lane.

Novel - CH11
Dunking - wk4
French - Je suis faim.

1 comment:

Michael said...

Well, let me first say that today I finally sat down and actually read more than the 1 or 2 entries written around the time you notified everyone. Partly because I forgot to RSS/bookmark, and partly because I just don't spend as much time on the computer I used to.

Anyway, not that I've read everything you've done, especially in recent years... but I would say there isn't a baby book in existence (at least that I know of) that offers this kind of perception and truth. So, if the movies and novels do not work out before "Danger Bear" arrives... hopefully you will have maintained this journal with the same spirit, energy, and well balanced mix of honesty/humor. I would say then you have a real potential gem on your hands, with obvious widespread appeal. I really mean that.

And congratulations on the twins. We've stopped at 2 because of the overwhelming fear of being outnumbered (and let out a loud "Whew!" after #2 came solo).


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