Spring is for planning, and plotting, and scheming, and starting.
I want to spend springtime with dirt under my fingernails. I wish to watch my son run about in the sun. I plan on eating grilled food, and lots of pies. I’ll work off those pie pounds by playing and gardening, and even yoga-ing on Saturday mornings with my husband.
I want to play Modern Warfare 2 with my husband. I don’t like these types of games Per Se, but I like the way his eyes light up when I launch a grenade and accidentally kill an enemy. I like how he laughs when I accidentally throw a grenade on myself. I appreciate the fact that he is amused when I can’t-for-the-life-of-me-find-the-door, and run my player repeatedly into a glass window before being shot from behind (this happened twice today). I’m better at Duck Hunt.
I want to read to my children more. Sheldon is at the “open-shut-them” stage: he shuts everything, including picture books. Luckily, I have them memorized and I need no pages, so I will read to him anyway. Quinten is obsessed with the “Giving Tree“, and that puts me in a somber mood, and also in a rhyming mood, and Shel Silverstein is my hero. And yes, his real name is Sheldon.
I want to keep secrets in my pocket. I will disguise them as lint, and washed-up Kleenexes.
I don’t know what that means exactly, I blame Shel Silverstein.
Spring is for planting, and plotting, and scheming, and starting…