A damp, gray day and warm for the season to boot. It put a twist in my drawers and a pall on my demeanor, which spilled into the workday. Today was a headphones-on-more-than-off kind of day. The only thing that could have put the cap on it would have been to walk around with a lemon wedge in my mouth.
Her Majesty's evening swim class was cut short because one of the toddlers had a "bathroom incident" in the pool, so everyone had to exit and the pool was shut down for cleaning. Poop in pool = total buzzkill + hilarity for the Lass. To her credit, she did acknowledge that it was "gross".
"Soulshine" by Government Mule was playing on the radio when I arrived back at the Casa del Gumbo, and it put me further into the funk than I already was. Pensive and soul-searching wasn't what I was in the mood to hear. I was gearing up to write it all out, get the cynical and jaded pollution from my head to clear it. I was thinking how I fall into that trap too often, seduced by the dark side, and how I was tired of being a grown-up.
Good thing I saw the picture. Heh.
It has been sitting on my kitchen counter for about a week or so. Wee Lass drew it for me as a gift, of her own accord. It is of a happy little dinosaur, cheerily munching on what looks like carrot-shaped tree with a single large leaf at the top. Overhead, a pale yellow sun shines down as a butterfly the size of a condor flies above the dinosaur. At the top left hand corner is a title, scrawled in that unmistakable penmanship of one who is just learning to write. It says "The Dino lif", and Wee Lass assures me that it does mean "The Dino Life", missing 'e' notwithstanding.
It makes me smile. I forget, even for only a little while, about the crappy day and malaise and the cynical, corrosive air we often breathe as adults.
I sat down on the couch, with a glass of tea, and resolved to more often "live the Dino lif". And I won't even worry about that missing 'e'.
oh who needs the e?
ReplyDeletethis is timely, especially after meditating upon the validity of getting out of bed.
ReplyDeleteThrough the eyes of a child we often find happiness, perhaps a life less complex as we want to make ours.I enjoyed looking through your posts.
ReplyDeleteSigh. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI'm swearing off angst rock too. Does. Not. Help. :D
We had a three year old over for a sleepover last night because his parents were in the hospital getting ready to have his little sister. He cracked me up, the dog followed him around like he was made of bacon, he sat on the couch and bounced while he ate dinner, and he spent ten minutes explaining to me exactly what happens when the alarm goes off at the fire station. Oh, and this morning he told Xander that I am very good at sharing because he got to sleep with my stuffed animals. It was great.
ReplyDeleteSometimes just seeing things through their eyes is a balm. I'm glad you have the Dino lif to remind you! :P