Saturday, April 24, 2004

My sleeping 3-month old son reminds me of a meditating swami or guru. His eyes fluttering, mouth slightly open, he looks totally at peace with himself. Of course, now that I've started typing, he's starting to sob. He can sense that I've left the room, and his peace, his meditation has been interrupted.

I wish that the weather were better today. The baby J. and I took a walk down to a local coffee house, and I got an italian soda with whipped cream - a fruity, self-indulgent treat I bought with my $20 Joe gave me as "blow" money, even though I know we're so broke at this point everything should be going into our utility bills, or vacation fund. I also bought Abe a homemade dog treat made of peanut butter and carob, which he eagerly (yet gingerly) took from me, then apparently dropped it in a corner where I found it later in the afternoon, not even a nibble taken out of it. That'll teach me to buy expensive dog treats, even if it is supporting a local merchant.

Guess I better go comfort the boy, I know his shorts are full (boys are so different than girls, he doesn't seem to mind at all that he's sitting in a diaper full of poop). All I really wanted to say was that he looked like a swami.

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