Friday, December 29, 2006
Hello, blog. Well. I'm only posting because it's 12:34 a.m. and I am procrastinating- my favorite hobby. This is how I do my work. If I get some especially boring something to fact-check, I surf, and I click and I read and I buy, and then, right at about 9:45, I start. But only for a little bit. Then I surf some more, til I really start to sweat, and get tired, and then with just one page or two left, I let it really get late. I just can't help myself! Why do it efficiently? What's the fun? This way I draaaag it out and then when it's finally done I feel like I've really completed this big project, because see how late I'm up? And now I'm done- but that requires walking to bed. So why not put that off?
Anyway. We are in the Why phase around here, which I let get to me way more than it should. I know I should shrug it off with a harmless, knowing roll of the eyes, because this is what three year-olds do. But it's more like it makes my eyes bug out and roll right out of my head in acute irritation. Sometimes I don't want to say things like, "Oh it's nice out today" because I know it will be met with "Why? Why is it nice out" and I'll say that it's sunny, and of course will hear, "Why it's sunny?" Sometimes I just keep answering and playing along until I end up saying things like, "I don't know why I don't have eyes on top of my head. I should though. Good question."
But this is following closely on the heels of our special What phase, so I am somewhat used to it. For the longest time he would follow anything you said with "What." Not "What?" but just What. It was sort of like an: I got it, I'm processing, okay. But before I figured this out I would repeat it, and hear what, and repeat it again, and ask if he heard me, which of course he did. I finally realized one day when he was talking and I heard myself say it flatly: what. Some days he talks and talks, and talks! and has so much to say even while I'm driving or cooking that I inevitably miss some of it (apparently a lot) and say (apparently a lot) what. For the record I also say "yes, Casimir? " sometimes, but that hasn't rubbed off yet.
I also take a little secret pleasure in making people uncomfortable because I let Carl just sit there and cup my boobie under my shirt while I hold or sling him in public. It's like his little safety grip. I hold the boobie and it's all OK. We should all have such a crutch.
Anyway. We are in the Why phase around here, which I let get to me way more than it should. I know I should shrug it off with a harmless, knowing roll of the eyes, because this is what three year-olds do. But it's more like it makes my eyes bug out and roll right out of my head in acute irritation. Sometimes I don't want to say things like, "Oh it's nice out today" because I know it will be met with "Why? Why is it nice out" and I'll say that it's sunny, and of course will hear, "Why it's sunny?" Sometimes I just keep answering and playing along until I end up saying things like, "I don't know why I don't have eyes on top of my head. I should though. Good question."
But this is following closely on the heels of our special What phase, so I am somewhat used to it. For the longest time he would follow anything you said with "What." Not "What?" but just What. It was sort of like an: I got it, I'm processing, okay. But before I figured this out I would repeat it, and hear what, and repeat it again, and ask if he heard me, which of course he did. I finally realized one day when he was talking and I heard myself say it flatly: what. Some days he talks and talks, and talks! and has so much to say even while I'm driving or cooking that I inevitably miss some of it (apparently a lot) and say (apparently a lot) what. For the record I also say "yes, Casimir? " sometimes, but that hasn't rubbed off yet.
I also take a little secret pleasure in making people uncomfortable because I let Carl just sit there and cup my boobie under my shirt while I hold or sling him in public. It's like his little safety grip. I hold the boobie and it's all OK. We should all have such a crutch.
