Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Boy, am I gettin' old.
This morning, it was a struggle to get the kids up, since we had Bible study at church last night and then had to come home and dunk them in the tub before they went to bed. Especially so for Catherine, who padded into our room sometime between 1:30 and 5 saying she had a bad dream and needed to get in bed with us. Never good for true rest, although she gave it a very game try with much loud snoring on her part.
Anyway, she was harder to get up than usual, but the lure of a Toothbrush Story seemed to rouse her from her torpor. Clothes on, socks, shoes, then to the bathroom. She got her toothbrush and the toothpaste as I took my place on the Magical Watery Storytelling Throne of Mystery, where I began to hold forth:
"ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a small cat named--"
She turned to me and held up her finger, "Put it on pause, please, Daddy--I needs to go get somethin'."
"On Pause," like I'm some kind of DVD player or something.
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