Isn't It Crusty, Aren't We Clever!

Last night I was reading The Giant Jam Sandwich to Ellen. There are so many books I hate reading aloud at night. For example, I hate reading Curious George--too many words. I also hate The Napping House because of the Grandma's pantyhose feet. I hate reading books that go back and repeat every line from every page and just keep adding another line. A baby could write that. I like Olivia stylistically but her parents are so nice and patient that they make me look bad.They are far too indulgent.  I do like reading The Giant Jam Sandwich. When I was little my mom worked for a dentist. He had The Giant Jam Sandwich in his waiting room. I remember staring at the pictures before I could read. Last night I thought a phrase from the book, "Isn't it crusty, aren't we clever!" would make a good title for a blog post, irrelevant though it may be. Imagine the smell in the air while cooking that loaf!

Today I was doing the dishes and I thought of the following order for things starting with what I love going down to what I hate:

1.When people I like are just a tiny bit more into me than I am into them--I love this! It's perfect.

2. When people I don't care about don't care about me--This is mutually neutral.

3. When people I hate are into me--It's a drag because you hate them but you still give them props for liking you.

4. When people I like a lot are not into me at all--This is the saddest.

Then when Ellen was talking to me a lot and requiring responses and actions and effort I was craving getting under the covers and reading (which I actually do find quite a bit of time for) in peace. Then I thought about next year when she goes to kindergarten and the year after that when all my kids are in school all day. It was exciting to imagine what I will do with all my time. But the excitement was fleeting because I thought, "I'll probably be lonely and miss my kids." Doubtful, but society has programmed me to think that. In fact, literally yesterday someone literally told me to literally enjoy the noise in my house. I don't know what to think about that. I hope it's not true. If it's true there's nothing to look forward to and no way to prepare. If it's not true, I'm going to really enjoy the hours between 8:10am-3:45pm.

When I started writing this post I looked back through some of my old drafts on Blogger. Here are a few. I may never develop them:

I cannot believe that no one thought about metal tennis rackets until after 1980. I can't believe this was an invention in my lifetime. (I still can't believe this.)

When bloggers become successful we stop thinking of them as "one of us." (Guess I'll never know.)

When I tried rice milk I first felt sad that some people live their lives drinking this stuff and then I thought that they probably feel sad that I live my life fat. (Maybe they don't.)

The other day I had this compulsion to say in a conversation, "That exact same thing happened to me!" even though it didn't. I don't know why. It's not that I want to lie. I just couldn't think of anything else to say.  (I say all kinds of things for lack of anything to say.)

Isn't it crusty, aren't we clever!