Last night, Chris got home from work a little early, and I bade my little family a fond farewell and went out to get a pedicure. Which was lovely. And then I went out for sushi with my friend Laura. Which was lovely. And as we were walking into the restaurant, Laura asked me a casual question that led to me telling her the Big Secret of my life. The story I've never told anyone, because it was too painful, too embarrassing, too humiliating. That I had locked up so tightly I couldn't, at first, figure out how to even begin to tell it. And it was scary. But then it was fine. Because it turns out that it is an old story, and no longer has any power over me. That it is no longer painful or embarrassing, but rather rueful and silly. And then I complained about my husband for a while (rather too much, probably, but it has to be done occasionally, and I had already dumped my Big Secret on Laura, so why not keep going?) and when I got home the kids were fed and bathed and asleep.
And how do I forget every time how important it is to step out of my life for a while sometimes? To unburden myself of my children and my husband and my work and my house and the small and large dramas of my life and have some fun. I must be a goldfish, because that little plastic castle is a surprise every damned time. (Anyone? Anyone?)
On an unrelated note, I am an artiste! Mia frequently asks me to draw strange things, like a dinosaur with a lunchbox or a bunny eating lo mein or Daddy building a rocket to fly to the moon, and last week she asked me to draw "Mr. Scott." This is Mr. Scott.
(I know this isn't Mr. Scott, but that's what Mia calls him.)
And this is my version, beautifully colored by Mia.
You are so impressed!