End of The Week...
I hear the sound of two girls are giggling in the kitchen, The Goonies are on television, and a long, long week is over. There's gotta be a direct correlation between talking about kids shooting other kids, and how slowly time passes. So I got home tonight, laid on Zo's floor and read Grant Lawrence's "Adventures in Solitude," and waited for the funster to wake up from her nap. Flash forward an hour or two and I was sitting in front of a tasty Muskoka Woods Mad Tom IPA and laughing at Corey Feldman's Purple Rain t-shirt.. Our Friday nights have grown terribly tame.
Here's the sweetly pathetic thing...I mostly just want to hear these girls giggle. It's true. I don't want to miss Zoey hurling her hugless self at me post-bath. I don't want to miss my goodnight kiss, or the smell of Johnson & Johnson shampoo in Zoey's hair. I want to wake up early Saturday morning, grab some coffee, read, write, and wait for Zed and her Mom to wake up. I want to re-charge after a week of wearing down. I want to listen to Norah Jones and pour a cold IPA down my throat. I want to fully absorb the here and now, this house, my family, this quiet, simple moment in what will amount to not enough time in the end.
Right now I can hear the girls singing in unison, "what's gonna work, teeeamwork," as Zoey squiggles around the tub, and I think that it'd take some serious hydraulics to haul me out of here. This is my life on this second last Friday of September, 2011. It's pretty phenomenal.
Lately I have a hard time keeping the smiles to a manageable minimum.