Filed under: the mind is like a parachute
Recently Col told me he wanted a notebook he could keep in his pocket and pull out to write in. My mind scoffed, aren’t you the one who finds writing in your journal offensive, painful and a waste of time? Outwardly, I said, sure, honey, you can buy it with your own money. I took the kids to the dizzying Back to School aisle of Rite Aid and Col found exactly what he wanted. On our way to the cash register, Rose announced that she wanted to buy a pen for Col to go with his journal. Col picked out a beautiful sharp-tipped black pen and we proceeded to the register, the outer edges of my mind dilating into a brave new territory where mermaids surfaced from gentle waters to sing songs called anything is possible, Mama.
Later that night Col announced bashfully that he had written something in his notebook, but we probably wouldn’t be able to read it.
“personal attitude is the best” – this could also be filed under: vowels are overrated
Two days ago I would have reported that Col was highly unlikely to do any voluntary writing and Rose was highly unlikely to spend any of her cash on her brother.
The mind is like a parachute, it doesn’t work if it’s not open. —Frank Zappa