Every Now and Again
The rain began during the night. I heard the thunder rolling in. I’ve always liked that. That and a shock of lightning every now and again for honesty. Em had the hood of his new lightweight jacket pulled on top of his head this morning. He was prepared.
“Lookin’ good, Dog,” I said.
“Yeah,” (sip of milk) “you lookin’ good too, Daddy.”
The downpour had slowed to steady mist by the time we arrived at daycare. Ms. E. strode past us as we walked in.
“I’ll be right back,” she said in practiced English. “I have to…uh…um...roll up my window. I left my window open in the rain.” She returns as Em is giving me gross kisses on each cheek followed by mischievous giggles. He puckers to kiss my cheek then quickly sticks out his tongue. The kid’s a riot. I can’t beat him in front of Ms. E. so he’s safe for now. Ms. E’s window was not down it turns out. And apparently, April Fool’s Day is not observed in Ms. E’s home country of Bolivia as she seems fairly displeased with the daycare custodian.
I’m thinking soccer practice will be cancelled tonight. Tomorrow’s 11:30a game an uncertainty. We missed last Saturday’s game because we were out of town. The week before though, Em did ok. He ran like the wind; chased the ball wherever it went; stood on his head with his ass in the air; grabbed his goodies repeatedly; ran to the sidelines to tell us “I’m playing soccer!!!;” lost his shorts once; and eventually lay down in the middle of the field of play, his tired head resting in the palm of his hand, oblivious to the gaggle of boys running all around him. And it got me thinking—which is always dangerous—how wonderful to be that free, utterly void of responsibility. What I would give to be sitting in one of my interminable meetings, suddenly leap to my feet, run wildly about the room holding myself, speed down the hallway to the big boss and bellow, “I’m learning about Policies and Procedures!!!,” gallop back to my seat between the serious people, and with the grandest sigh, lay my head on the table and fall immediately asleep.
But I won’t do that. I’ll listen to the droning. I’ll have my thumb and forefinger on my chin as I often do, looking thoughtful. I’ll casually allow my gaze to slip to the rain-streaked window, wait for a low roll of thunder, and pray for a subtle, subtle shock of lightning.
“Lookin’ good, Dog,” I said.
“Yeah,” (sip of milk) “you lookin’ good too, Daddy.”
The downpour had slowed to steady mist by the time we arrived at daycare. Ms. E. strode past us as we walked in.
“I’ll be right back,” she said in practiced English. “I have to…uh…um...roll up my window. I left my window open in the rain.” She returns as Em is giving me gross kisses on each cheek followed by mischievous giggles. He puckers to kiss my cheek then quickly sticks out his tongue. The kid’s a riot. I can’t beat him in front of Ms. E. so he’s safe for now. Ms. E’s window was not down it turns out. And apparently, April Fool’s Day is not observed in Ms. E’s home country of Bolivia as she seems fairly displeased with the daycare custodian.
I’m thinking soccer practice will be cancelled tonight. Tomorrow’s 11:30a game an uncertainty. We missed last Saturday’s game because we were out of town. The week before though, Em did ok. He ran like the wind; chased the ball wherever it went; stood on his head with his ass in the air; grabbed his goodies repeatedly; ran to the sidelines to tell us “I’m playing soccer!!!;” lost his shorts once; and eventually lay down in the middle of the field of play, his tired head resting in the palm of his hand, oblivious to the gaggle of boys running all around him. And it got me thinking—which is always dangerous—how wonderful to be that free, utterly void of responsibility. What I would give to be sitting in one of my interminable meetings, suddenly leap to my feet, run wildly about the room holding myself, speed down the hallway to the big boss and bellow, “I’m learning about Policies and Procedures!!!,” gallop back to my seat between the serious people, and with the grandest sigh, lay my head on the table and fall immediately asleep.
But I won’t do that. I’ll listen to the droning. I’ll have my thumb and forefinger on my chin as I often do, looking thoughtful. I’ll casually allow my gaze to slip to the rain-streaked window, wait for a low roll of thunder, and pray for a subtle, subtle shock of lightning.
posted by Ryan at 11:19 AM
2 Comments:
I act out like that at my 'job' all the time. Good thing I work from home.
Has the Gnome had any issues with you holding yourself and running about? Typically gnomes are cool like that. But your guy looks like he could kick a little ass.
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