Monday, September 2, 2013

Tortured and "Twitter"pated: Day 5: Depression

Gail Homer Berry
As Harry Potter character deaths mount, I keep offering grief counseling. Boys look bemused and refuse. No emotional investment! Weird... (137)

Church shoes: J, boots, broken toe; E, boots, growth spurt; J, ragged denim, other MIA; S, socks, dont ask. So much 4 going 2B seen of men. (139)
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Translation and context:

The family were ragged and disgraceful in their footwear last Sunday.

Jon, who had a broken toe, wore boots, not dress shoes. An understandable medical exception.

Eric, who has just started Yet Another growth spurt, couldn't get his church shoes on and wore boots. At least they weren't sneakers or sandals, right?

Daniel, who had barfed recently, stayed home.

Jeff picked out the ragged denim shoes his Grandpa Homer had purchased at Goodwill. He looked so hopeful, I didn't have the heart to smoosh him into his own church shoes, which are also getting small. (He has a decent pair of ordinary shoes, but those were missing.)

Sam chose this moment to be difficult. First, he could only find one shoe of his normal pair; it's mate was missing. Next, he refused to consider sandals, crocs, or any substitute I desperately suggested. I searched the house frantically for the missing footwear, but to no avail. We were late to church.

In the end, I let Sam go in just socks. I carried him into the church building because Jon, with his broken toe, wasn't up to the schlepping of a wiggly thirty-pound three-year-old.

I'm not proud, but there you have it. Fortunately I don't go to church "to be seen of men."

When we got home, Eric asked for permission to play on the computer. He added, "But Sam's missing shoe totally doesn't qualify! It made us late!"

I agreed.

Gail Homer Berry
I have not the space to enumerate here how I ABHOR potty training. Silver lining: this topic doesn't need nuance; it's universally VILE. (136)

Commentary: It was thoroughly horrible, but you already guessed that. I have chosen to spare you the details though. See? I am still capable of restraint, even without a character limit. Plus I want to forget the whole thing, myself.

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