circa March 2014
Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong sing "Summertime" while we sit on the cold floor, surrounded by piles of clean unfolded laundry, listening to blustery March howl at our door. The irony is so welcome.
While I watch Charles's eyes half-moon with infant glee, Sinatra croons, "You make me feel so young...you and I are just like a couple of tots..." Then giggly Eleanor piles into my lap alongside her brother.
Just after breakfast, bellies are full and we all go our separate, cerebral ways for a short while. Chopin helps us focus on our high-brow tasks, namely reading board books and trolling Pinterest.
I try to get dinner started as early in the day as I can given that the hours of 3-6pm are monopolized by the pre-bedtime crazies. Strunz and Farah transport me to a small Spanish kitchen (a la Like Water for Chocolate). My blood pressure lowers and I cannot help but do lazy twirls from sink to stove to refrigerator, wooden spoon in hand and a dish towel slung over my shoulder.
A post nap pep rally is not complete without a visit to 24hoursofhappy.com. The whole house pulses with the energy of this song. Eleanor shouts, "Das! Das!", swaying her little hips and clapping heartily. True dancing, uncontrived. Even Charles's bouncy seat seems to channel the beat. Paxton looks clueless...as usual.
When I'm missing Shawn, I imagine that we are the two people in this song. And when we are reunited for dinner: Simon and Garfunkel. Makes total sense to me.
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