The daughter of all deathwatches

I was sitting with Beth at the allergist’s office, helping her with her “gifted” homework. In the span of a 20-minute shot watch we discussed mid-term elections, the separation of powers, the merits of a bi-camel legislature, term limits, and the unique nature of prime numbers.

Throughout this light conversation I stole a few glances at the folks sharing the waiting room with us… and they were unsettled. What? Doesn’t everyone discuss the nature of representative government and math theory with their nine-year-old daughters?

Can’t we all just get along.

“Daddy, I hate Anthony.”
“What’s wrong with Anthony?”
“He says mean things and I don’t like him”
“Sounds like you and Anthony don’t get along.”
“I get along just fine daddy. Anthony doesn’t.”

The sticky spot on the floor.

There are days when everything seems to go just great… and then there are all of the other days. There are those other days when things are not particularly bad, but certainly not good. You make progress, but it seems that it comes despite some invisible, dark force lurking around the corner.

In a playful moment with your child, you slide in your stocking feet across the smooth living room floor. The stereo pumps energy into the air and life seems good. Then the dark force shows up. Your foot hits the half eaten, halloween gummy bear that has been laying in wait for someone in stocking feet to come sliding across the room. The coefficient of friction between your foot, the half eaten gummy bear, and the floor is much higher than you were counting on. Your foot stops as your upper body continues, nearly unabated. Your upper body changes velocity due to the change in heading – from straight ahead to arcing towards the floor.

Sprawl, flop, crash, topple, founder, lurch, stagger, careen, totter… aren’t thesauruses great fun?