Soup in the haiku bird (five times I didn't say no today).

Food, beverages, and table settings from a Poetry & Literature Tea Party

Invictus.

“Shall we have a little poetry party later in the day?”
I asked myself silently, before asking the rest of the schoolroom out loud.

The resounding chorus was unanimous, and included selections from Shel Silverstein, John Donne (No Man is an Island), William Shakespeare (Sonnet 116), and William Ernest Henley (Invictus), accompanied by some slick ties, pretty dresses, hot drinks, hotter mama, and delicious pre-supper snacks.

Sometimes you pitch yourself a question because it feels good to pretend like there’s actually a second option you’re considering. When you’re not.

Three-year old baker baking in a tidy kitchen

Anthony.

Can we do some baking?
he asked.

We’ll see,
I said.

Eight-month old adult organizing kitchen drawers

Acta non verba.

Can I reorganise all the kitchen drawers?
he asked with his actions, not his words.

No.
I said angrily.

And then partially relented.

Jo.

Can we please watch some of Little Women?
our daughter begged, corners of mouth twitching upwards.

I glanced at the clock; a clock indicating bedtime was already fifteen minutes previous.

Her nine-year old brother jumped in:
”Yes,” he pleaded, “I love Little Women!”

Yeah. Sometimes it’s hard to say no. So you don’t.

Yes?

Are we good parents?
I mused silently, and then aloud to the Countess Becca as she nestled in beside me on the couch; alone finally for a brief bit.

I cut her off before she could respond.

Yeah,
I said.
Some days we are.

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