Or at least the one with the least amount of dog poop. SCOOP already, America!
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood so I finally managed to get my fat ass out of the office and on to the walking trail. It felt wonderful. The sun on my face, the sun on the river, the ducks on the river, the possibility of spring at long last. I was driving home just a few days ago thinking, jesus every little thing is gray: the sky, the trees, the cars, the grass, the pavement. Where is the the color? I found some today.
And it was soooo good for me, just walking and thinking idle thoughts. I came up with about 5,000 ideas for this blog. Meet the Fam, which is me describing my kids and the good traits they inherited from me and the bad traits they inherited from their father. Meet The Mom, which is me describing me and my rad mom skillz. Days of Dad, which is me describing life with my husband and his cluelessness. In other words, redundancy rules. It is *my* blog, after all. So, there I was soaking up sunshine, which has to be good for one's serotonin levels. Raising my heart rate above "comatose" for the first time this millennium. My imagination (or self-delusion - you decide) is so great, I feel like an Olympian after a quarter mile. The dormant competitive streak awakens. There's a little old man, possibly a stroke victim - he seems drawn to one side, doing his best Tim Conway. I can take him in three strides. That woman with the gimpy leg? Toast on the backstretch. I only give the right of way to seniors and women with children. If they smile first.
Here's hoping Spring has sprung. Don't want to go back in the closet with the Cheetos and the Jackson Browne album.