watching and waiting
September 25, 2007
Substitute me, my front porch, and the empty street in front of me.
That is what it looks like at my house today while I sit and wait for the repairman.
I would try cheering, “Repairman! Repairman!” in hopes that my loving support would increase the chances of him arriving early. But that would just add to my neighbors suspicions that I am crazy.
And while some days I would welcome the respite from my children that would occur should I be dragged off and confined to peaceful, silent, padded room, today is not the day. I have appliances that need repair, dammit.
Oh, I have a post up at Parenting, pondering whether or not it was easier to be a mother a generation or two ago. Not from a political stand point, but from the point of view of job satisfaction.
“We had it much easier in my day.” my mother-in-law told me. She is 85 years old and had her first child 60 years ago.
“Really, easier?” I asked.
“Yes. We didn’t have to think so much. We weren’t worried about doing things wrong they way you young people worry today. You just did it.”
So if you are so inclined go on over and read. I’ll be here when you get back. Watching and waiting and trying to use my telepathic skills to communicate to him that he must come right now.
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