After commenting on the raspiness of my voice, he turned the conversation to an admission that he can't sleep, either.
That always throws me. I don't know who reads these words, althought I have an idea of the quantity of traffic. My brother's conversational curveball was the third in a week.
At a picnic on Saturday, Aron's mom started talking about book.
I was kinda dazed. I can't carry a smart conversation with small children around. Or cake. Or trees. I was in a daydreaming mood, and talking was work.
I write because I can't talk.
Because sometimes I have things to say, and there is absolutely no one to say them to.
So I just scribble them down on the blog and leave them, like a note on the table, and walk away.
Lots of times I forget what I've written, so it's weird when people bring up things I've done, like
- flashing a gorilla
- bouncing quarters off my ass,
- Texas Toast
- being kinda rude to idiots but looking cute while doing it
- being traumatized by a CCD teacher
- discovering a stapler burial grounds
- another (YAWN) tv interview
But anyway, today is another day.
With lots to say.
Like my sudden realization that the best way to teach a kid to use a spoon is by giving them a bowl of M&M's and a very very long DVD.
Or the fact that I honestly hide from my kids. They think it's a game, but it isn't.
Yes. I have a lot to say. I'm just wondering who I'm going to say it to...
But back to my brother. What's keeping him up at night is his 3 month old twins (not identical).
Now, I'm not being competitive, but I think that what's keeping me up is a bit more interesting. Melancholy, creativity, wistfulness, and writing. Quadruplets (non-identical).
So, um, again - I WIN.
Not that anyone's counting, right?