Ten. Six Hundred & Sixty-Two
I get up to close the sliding glass door. The sound of the sprinklers is piercing through.
Smoothies. I have just enough juice. I forgot that there’s not coffee grinder which means no coffee which means, oh goodness.
He won’t stop talking about his field trip.
He comes back with a venti black coffee from the Starbucks down the street. I’m saved. I take sips in between washing the dishes.
100 2nd graders waiting in front of a movie theater. It’s loud. It’s chaotic. I’m only in charge of two. I wonder how many other parents don’t do field trips because they don’t want to be a chaperone. I offered to transport but not stay at the movie. I made a wise decision.
The book shelves at Goodwill are showing out today: The Warmth of Other Suns, The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Singin’ and Swingin’ and Gettin’ Merry Like Christma, The Alchemist, On Wings of Song.
I tell him that if I’ve fallen off the meditation train this week. If I’d been meditating I would have been more patient.
The spicy slaw is really spicy. I should have halved the chipotle powder. But the flavors are there. Fish tacos with seared tuna and spicy slaw for the win.
He says that maybe to some people it could have come off as bragging or being spoiled. But that since he knows me, he understood what I was saying. I meant to say that I’m aware that privileges exists and that we all have these privileges. And we can have privileges while also being part of a marginalized group. Oh well. I can’t control other’s reactions.