Sunday, April 11, 2010
There was now a toilet at one end of our narrow bedroom closet. I was sitting on it fully clothed, with the lid down, thinking, when the door slid open and my wife came in to hang some clothes. When she turned on the light and realized I was there, she apologized for intruding on my privacy. She quickly finished her chore, then turned off the light and closed the door. A moment later, the door slid open again. This time it was our son, looking for his guitar. I could see he was trying to hide a smile. “I know you think this is ridiculous,” I said. “And you’re right — it is. Be that as it may, I have a lot of thinking to do.” Still smiling, he left without answering and closed the door. His guitar was in the opposite corner. I had to get up and turn off the light myself.
Recently Linked: My thanks to Pris Campbell for kindly recommending me to readers of her blog, Songs to a Midnight Sky. Thanks, also, to Shelli Proffitt Howells for linking here from her blog, Naissance. So nice of them both!
In the Forum: What do you mean by that?