Posted on April 24, 2005 at 5:00 am
While I was reading the paper this morning, the Boy came into the kitchen. I thought that he was being watched by one of the other three people who live in my house. I was enjoying a rare moment with The New York Times. For the first time in a week I was alone. I was determined to be able to continue to enjoy it. I figured if I avoided eye contact I could escape yet another round of Monster Truck meets countertop flour dunes. It was someone else’s turn. I did not look up until he announced that he had brought me my knitting. Then I saw this.
Looks innocent enough, until I wondered "Where is the needle that it was on?" And then I noticed this: A trail of yarn leading out of the kitchen.
Across the parlor.
Down the hall.
Into the T.V. room
where I had left my knitting last night.
It could have been worse, I suppose.
In my house, the run from the kitchen to the T.V.room is about 75 feet. If I lived here
it could have been many times that (assuming you could find a kitchen).
But it could have been not so bad. If I lived here; sure, it would have been about the same. But with only one level, there’d be a lot less cleaning. More time for knitting.
What about an apartment in Paris?
Twenty feet. (or 6 meters, as they say EVERYWHERE ELSE IN THE FREAKING WORLD)
Or in an Airstream trailer parked somewhere in Idaho on a partly cloudy June day?
He could just point. Distance unravelled? none.
Maybe I need a smaller house.
Still, I was proud of the little guy. Now maybe I can teach him to clean up the flour.