Two of us making less eye contact
than usual, trying not to bounce off one another in the too small kitchen space. Today it is take-out
, too salty with sneaky little green pepper
s that taste like heartburn
and off tasting black circles straight from a can.
Our toddler comes to tell us, “I made a big mess.” What now? Water? Chalk? Sticky things? Today I found her sitting in the wicker laundry hamper, eating gum purloined from my pockets (where she also found my drivers license and keys, going somewhere?)
While bored and needing to work with my hands today I ripped the wire from my notebook and bent it into the shape of a person with a dog. I was compelled by the companionship one gets from a dog and found I could convey with wire the thing I could not say in ink.
There was a time before the children came when I wanted to be needed the way I am now. Most days I still feel that way. Then there are days like today when my head feels too tight and I need to haul out the paints and brushes and sharp tools and make something, and being needed stretches me out in all directions and there isn’t much left for creative endeavor. All day long it’s get my juice how bout some chocka milk I want my shoes on stay here go away sweep this where’s my guys feed the baby I want my Horton cup make dinner… I can not hear my thoughts. I lose my dream details at the breakfast table. I long for a quiet place to stick my head.