Peevish

Lots of things have gone south in the last twenty four hours. Nothing much; just a little string of annoyances that seem like Marley’s chains dragging behind you. Impediments, not disasters.

Blogger keeps eating my words. You’d think I’d stop relying on it, but thinking only gets you into trouble — so knock it off. Hit publish and get file not found. Grrr. Mouse dies. You pick it up. Cursor races around the screen unwonted, then closes the browser. Grrr. Dehumidifier dies ten seconds after the warranty expires. Grrr. Poison Ivy. Grrr. Lumber yard bin is empty of the material you want. Grrr. More rain. Grrr. Wake up with a headache. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The coffee’s good. My wife’s attentive. That’s good. And my son’s last day of fifth grade is today. He starred in an off-off-off-fairly far off Broadway production of The Boston Tea Party as John Hancock, along with the rest of his fifth grade class last night.

I had work to do. Grrr. I didn’t need the interruption. Grrrr. I had to hurry to the shower. Grrr. I stepped on a” Bionical” in the shower. GRRRRRRRRRR. Why do they leave that in the tub? Why not a nice soft rubber duckie? GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

Hurry up dear. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

We’re seated. There will be a delay, the teacher mumbles inaudibly.
GGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

They were wonderful. All of them. We didn’t know whether to laugh, or smile, or cry, or beam, or brag, or applaud, or what. My little boy stood at the front of the stage like a trouper, and delivered his lines with verve and panache, and his friends were equally successful, and we all had a wonderful time.

Hey look; it stopped raining.