All Done


Me: “I should go for a run. I should go to the grocery store. I should go scoop the litter.”

Him:
“How about,
I want to…
I feel like…
It sounds nice to…
?”

Me: “Huh? Oh. Wow. Read my new book.”

~

But did I read? Nope. I went shopping by myself, while V and Pearl played up the street at a friend’s house. I baked, finally using up those five rotting bananas I’ve been saving for what seems like weeks. I helped Greg choose a pie crust recipe to contain some of the blueberries the girls and I picked today at Pelkey’s Berry Farm in Charlotte. I skipped the run. I ate a big salad. I still haven’t scooped the poop. Phone calls and emails remain unanswered. In fact, from one perspective, almost nothing is done. From that same perspective, especially with small people in the picture, completion is an elusive, near-impossible feat. On the other hand, thank you very much, the only things that matter are taken care of: Two girls finally settled in, asleep. And pie, waiting on the stove.

~

Me: “Night night, love. The day’s over.”

Pearl: “All done. All done boo-boo pikin.”

Me: Big sneeze.

Her: “Bess you, Mama.”

4 thoughts on “All Done

  1. Karen Maezen Miller says:

    Of course, what I’m really listening for when I recite those kind of things-that-need-doing is this:

    Him: I’ll do it!

    Like

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