Sam and Child Have Lots of Snow Days
75 points to both Robbyn and Greta -- yep, the new bird is one of the colors of the sea -- blue with a green tinge to it (not the clear blue of the dearly departed Welkin). I'm going to stop naming birds in Irish -- it's too easy for y'all. Welsh, next time.
Progress on the Mindless Bit O'Fluff:
and closeup of the yarn:
I'll probably finish it in the next couple of days. Just in time, too, because I am now heartily tired of the mindless knitting and require more action. I've got about a half inch of the bottom ribbing to finish, and then the neckline ribbing to pick up and knit. (Very important to make the neckline ribbing, as otherwise one might be wearing it and have a wardrobe malfunction.) (Sam requested the phrase "wardrobe malfunction" in the blog, so there it was.) ("you write about knitting," he said. "That's clothes. You could fit it in somehow." He's got such strong faith in my writing ability.)
So yesterday it was icy, as I mentioned earlier, and when I left for work, the child's school was on a two hour delay, but when I walked into the office the phone rang and it was Sam, telling me that he and the child had gone to wait for the school bus, but it didn't come, and it turned out that at the last minute the school had announced a closing for the day. So he was home with the child all day. This has happened frequently lately.
But there I was at work, and of no use on the domestic front, as I had graduate applications to sort out and label (my best advice; should you wish to enter a graduate program in English literature, do not begin your Statement of Purpose with the phrase "snuggled cozily in my little bed"), and I had a meeting to get to, and eventually I had to call up Sam and have him start the oven for the biscuits cause I would be late, but I got home eventually, ready to cook dinner for my guys and have a lovely calm evening at home, safe in the bosom of my loving family. Snuggled cozily on the couch.
But when I got there, it was frosty inside -- the child came up and threw himself on the couch in what looked exactly like an adolescent snit fit, though he's only 7 -- and Sam explained to me that the child was Unhappy with his Dad. As indeed, the Dad was Unhappy with the child.
Well, of course. I'm sure this was happening all over Pittsburgh, nay, the entire northeast. My child is getting pretty much no education this semester so far, on account of all the snow and ice. And Sam, who has already had two careers and is theoretically in retirement, is also a stay-at-home dad, and if you're home with the kids, you REALLY NOTICE the days that they go to school late, or, God forbid, stay home altogether. Usually I get home and the guys have been playing poker, and reading the Hardy boys, and discussing the Bionicles, and reading Calvin and Hobbes, and engaging in manly exercise outside, all since three o'clock, which is when the child gets home, and they're good friends, but yesterday they were together all day, and they got on each others' nerves. So they were pretty much waiting for me to get home, cause they both liked me best at that point.
The nadir of the day was, I'm told, the point at which Sam went into the sitting room and discovered that the child had dragged all the cushions off the couch and disported them about the room, and was jumping around the room and throwing himself upon them, all to the soundtrack of Footloose. This was more than Sam could bear. Dancing, fine, he told me. "But the cushions were All Over the Room!"
Anyway. I put dinner together, and they ignored each other, and we had our nice dinner -- they were quite polite -- and the child went up and had his bath, and read books in the bathtub (his refusal to read had been an issue earlier in the day), and Sam did dishes, and then we all sat downstairs and watched "Dexter's Laboratory" -- one of my favorites; I adore the Mom who does all her housework in high heels -- and at some point I looked over and the child was curled up on Sam's shoulder.
So all is well, and it was by the time the child went to bed. And now he's gone off to wait for the school bus. Please join me in praying it's coming.
Progress on the Mindless Bit O'Fluff:
and closeup of the yarn:
I'll probably finish it in the next couple of days. Just in time, too, because I am now heartily tired of the mindless knitting and require more action. I've got about a half inch of the bottom ribbing to finish, and then the neckline ribbing to pick up and knit. (Very important to make the neckline ribbing, as otherwise one might be wearing it and have a wardrobe malfunction.) (Sam requested the phrase "wardrobe malfunction" in the blog, so there it was.) ("you write about knitting," he said. "That's clothes. You could fit it in somehow." He's got such strong faith in my writing ability.)
So yesterday it was icy, as I mentioned earlier, and when I left for work, the child's school was on a two hour delay, but when I walked into the office the phone rang and it was Sam, telling me that he and the child had gone to wait for the school bus, but it didn't come, and it turned out that at the last minute the school had announced a closing for the day. So he was home with the child all day. This has happened frequently lately.
But there I was at work, and of no use on the domestic front, as I had graduate applications to sort out and label (my best advice; should you wish to enter a graduate program in English literature, do not begin your Statement of Purpose with the phrase "snuggled cozily in my little bed"), and I had a meeting to get to, and eventually I had to call up Sam and have him start the oven for the biscuits cause I would be late, but I got home eventually, ready to cook dinner for my guys and have a lovely calm evening at home, safe in the bosom of my loving family. Snuggled cozily on the couch.
But when I got there, it was frosty inside -- the child came up and threw himself on the couch in what looked exactly like an adolescent snit fit, though he's only 7 -- and Sam explained to me that the child was Unhappy with his Dad. As indeed, the Dad was Unhappy with the child.
Well, of course. I'm sure this was happening all over Pittsburgh, nay, the entire northeast. My child is getting pretty much no education this semester so far, on account of all the snow and ice. And Sam, who has already had two careers and is theoretically in retirement, is also a stay-at-home dad, and if you're home with the kids, you REALLY NOTICE the days that they go to school late, or, God forbid, stay home altogether. Usually I get home and the guys have been playing poker, and reading the Hardy boys, and discussing the Bionicles, and reading Calvin and Hobbes, and engaging in manly exercise outside, all since three o'clock, which is when the child gets home, and they're good friends, but yesterday they were together all day, and they got on each others' nerves. So they were pretty much waiting for me to get home, cause they both liked me best at that point.
The nadir of the day was, I'm told, the point at which Sam went into the sitting room and discovered that the child had dragged all the cushions off the couch and disported them about the room, and was jumping around the room and throwing himself upon them, all to the soundtrack of Footloose. This was more than Sam could bear. Dancing, fine, he told me. "But the cushions were All Over the Room!"
Anyway. I put dinner together, and they ignored each other, and we had our nice dinner -- they were quite polite -- and the child went up and had his bath, and read books in the bathtub (his refusal to read had been an issue earlier in the day), and Sam did dishes, and then we all sat downstairs and watched "Dexter's Laboratory" -- one of my favorites; I adore the Mom who does all her housework in high heels -- and at some point I looked over and the child was curled up on Sam's shoulder.
So all is well, and it was by the time the child went to bed. And now he's gone off to wait for the school bus. Please join me in praying it's coming.
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