I won't have a whole piece--just a small bite, just a taste, just a sliver. I say this to myself, but half of the rhubarb pie is already gone, not 24 hours later, and my slivered approach is almost entirely to blame.

Since I've last written, just a few days ago, a hundred little slivers of time have passed sweetly by; and I want to remember them somehow, before they disappear as quickly as rhubarb pie on a chilly June afternoon.


Last night at dinner, with Larry still at work, the kids doused--no, drowned--me in nonsensical knock-knock jokes. I really just wanted to eat my mashed potatoes in peace, but I humored them the best I could. In one particularly annoying round, Caed told me "eyeball" was there, and after seven times saying "eyeball who?", I decreed it my last inquiry as to eyeball's last name.

Caed put his hands out, palms toward me like an infomercial guy and said, "Just go with me on this, Mom. Just go with me." He can't tell a joke to save his life, but he's apparently just what the Sham-Wow people have been looking for.


Dani. Oh Dani. Where do I start? Do you know the SNL Gilly skit? Then I don't even have to explain. I'm going to get it on video one of these days, how she smiles mischievously and says "sorry". Just. Like. Gilly.

Perhaps this photo, in which she appears to be terrorizing the ducks, will suffice in the meantime.


We went to the farmers market in the rain, in search of rhubarb and fresh air, and we found both. (We also found ducks, much to the poor duck's dismay. Reference Exhibit A, above.)

I told the kids they could wear their soccer jerseys to get into the spirit of the World Cup. I tried to talk Caed out of the socks to no avail. "You have to wear the whole thing, Mom, if you're going to look like a real soccer guy."


We recorded the USA vs. England match so we could watch it with Daddy after he came home from work. Caed curled his sock-clad, real soccer guy feet under his legs and nestled underneath Daddy's arm. When Dempsey scored the first and only goal for the US, I said, "Just think, Caed, that could be you someday--playing in the World Cup!" To which he replied, without hesitation, "Don't you remember? I'm going to be a hockey player!"

Ummm, can someone please break it to that boy that he's not Canadian? And also that his mother has no intention of enduring four years of rising at 4:30 a.m. to squeeze in ice time?


Larry worked again today (going for the record with 18 days straight in the ICU--way to finish residency with a bang!). It was foggy and not even 70 degrees, but the kids and I decided we should hit the beach anyway. I warned and warned that we would NOT be getting wet, but Dani didn't listen. (Giiillllleeee!....Gillleeeee?!.....What? Sorry.)

We did fashion the most beautiful sand castle ever in the whole world. So there was that. And we found shell after shell after shell after shell. And a crab leg. Mmm. Tasty. (It also cracked me up that Caed kept accidentally calling it a "clab craw" when he was trying to say "crab claw.")


At the beginning of quiet time/ nap time, Caed came to me with construction paper and pencils in hand. He looked at me with his serious eyes, the same look he gives when he's trying to rescue a lady bug from the dungeons of the basement. And he said, "Today, I am going to write a real book." And he narrowed his eyes and nodded his head, agreeing with himself, making sure he could see that I understood. And then he leaned in and whispered, "How do you spell 'mystery'?"


This is why I write it down. These slivers, no matter how small, add up to the whole slice, to the whole pie, to the whole lifetime, so sweet, so filling.

What slivers have you savored this week? What moments filled you up?

blog comments powered by Disqus

Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
All Rights Reserved - ©MYLESTONES 2007-2012

  © Blogger template Shush by 2009

Back to TOP