There's Still Time for Redemption, Mommy

When we got home this evening after an afternoon of playground and grocery shopping I remarked, mostly to myself, that today was the first day I lied to my “readership,” ie: you. Ax’s ears perked up, “You lied?” he asked.“Well, you know how normally I write in the morning but instead this morning we all slept in? I said that I would write something later today but I haven’t.” “Why did you lie?” he asked. “Well, at the time I said it I didn’t know it was going to be a lie, so ....” “But you lied?” “I guess the day is not over yet so if I write today it won’t be a lie,” I said, heating up his cheese tortellini, the same dinner he’s had for I can’t count how many nights in a row. We were both quiet as I served him his pasta.  "Mmmm," he said.

I was contemplating whether I had anything in me to say, remembering having had the feeling of having good nuggets that I’d wanted to write about, wanted to share, throughout the day, but not remembering what they were at all. Anything worth saying today had sort of drifted away in the sleepy Sunday-ness of it all. And I’d let it, I’d watched blog-worthy moments go, just let them drift past, noting that I was not noting them in my phone or on the confetti-like little scraps of paper that litter my house, or even mentioning them to Mike, like, “Oh that would be good blog-fodder.” Nope. Today I slept in, and then it continued like that all day long, dozy, cozy, doing only what needed to be done, which turned out to be very little. It was a good Sunday. But I’m no liar. I’m gonna tell Ax right now. I think he’ll be relieved.