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May 19, 2007

Noisemaking

This morning I got up bright and early, for a Saturday anyway, and did a bit of cleaning.

Before I go any further, I should point out that I was roused out of bed this morning by a female. I should further point out that she roused me via telephone. And the whole point to telling you about this rousing is so I could make the point that she'd gotten up at 6:30 a.m.; because she's just a little bit insane. She was kind enough to put off rousing me until about 8:30 and I was kind enough to pretend that I was already awake and stripping beds.

I was already awake, but I was at the part of being awake where I was still in bed, scratching, and planning my day. And I thought my day would look like this:

  • Breakfast at Mel's
  • Clean the bathrooms
  • Ride the bike
  • Rest
  • Clean some more
  • Following the call I decided I'd have to shower before going to Mel's and figured I may as well clean the bathrooms prior to breakfast. So, armed with a bottle of spray cleanser and some rags and dressed only in my underwear, I got busy.

    Then I showered and shot off to Mel's.

    Which brings us to the whole point of this post.

    I sat behind a couple with an infant and his grandparents. The infant was in a high chair and not yet speaking. But he was certainly a noisemaker.

    I was sitting reading and listening to the boy coo and scream and make those excited noises infants make that mean something to them but are indecipherable to adults, and I started missing it a little bit; even when he briefly cried. And then I got worried that the parents and grandparents would worry that the child was being disruptive while I was reading. I didn't say anything because I didn't want them to think any polite conversation I made would be my way of saying, "reign that child in."

    I just sat there and read and enjoyed the noise.

    And when I got home I enjoyed the fact that I have the day to myself and that my diaper-changing days are behind me.

    (You know, had someone been speaking on a cell phone behind me I never would have been able to concentrate on my book. A child raising three kinds of hell, however, was not a problem.)

    Posted by delmer at May 19, 2007 11:41 AM

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