There are things I wonder about, you know.
Small things, inconsequential things meshing in with the big questions, ponderings that strike in the shower and follow me through my day.
What will we do when one of the cats passes away? While Lucy is still technically a kitten (although she's as round as the moon and twice as tricky) Chumba of the Motorboat Purrrr is twelvish and Kate The Venerable seventeen. I like having three cats around - I enjoy their camaraderie and personalities, but really - litterboxing for three? Not fun.
What do people do with the nose pads on their glasses when they get dirty? There's obviously some trick to it - everyone doesn't wait until they get good and filthy and then slink into the optometrists to ask, all red faced, for them to be changed, do they? Judging from the muffled snickers that drift out from the back room where all the twee tools are kept, they don't. So there has to be some rhyme or reason to it, and poking at them with q-tips doesn't seem to be working. (She said, huffing indignantly while picking at bits of fluff caught under the threads of the screws)
I wonder whether this vacation (a trip to see my father and step-mother, then a rocket ride up to U-Haul some of my mother's belongings out of my step-father's garage) is going to be more happy then sad. Gosh, I hope so. It's been ten years since I've been back to where I grew up, and I want to show my kids everything.
Is B's head is going to pop clear off his neck when the kids get their hair highlighted? (It was their choice as a reward for getting awesome grades. B, sweetheart, it's just hair. It grows back. But be warned. I took your preference into mind and scheduled their appointments for after we get back from seeing my family, but September 2nd? 6 pm? It's on.)
Yeah. Those things. So if you're standing behind me in the grocery and I look glazed and troubled in the canned food section? I'm probably not pondering War and Peace. Feel free to interrupt.
Seriously. Anyone know the trick to cleaning the damn nose pads?