WWJW?

At Saturday's impeachment event: a woman wearing a hat embroidered with "Jesus is my Boss" and a shirt: "Buck Fush."

Conversations in the car on the 4 1/2-hour drive to Grandma's house

2: What comes after Sunday?
Me: Monday
2: No, it doesn't!
Me: ....
Me: Well, what do you think comes after Sunday?
2: [irate] I don't know! But you know! So tell me!
Me: Zippity-do-day.
2: [kicking seat, screaming] No! [cries at length]

***

2: Why do far-away places have to be far away?
Me: uhhhh... because Earth is a big planet and... if everything was close together... um... the people would be too crowded.
2: No! You're not listening to me! I SAID, why do far-away places have to be far away?
Me: ...
2: Answer me!
Me: I have nothing to say to you.
2: ANSWER ME! [kicks seat, screams]

***

2: Will tomorrow be a magic day?
Me: What is a magic day for you?
2: It's when you go to sleep and wake up in the morning but it's still the same day.
Me: [relieved, somehow] Yes! Tomorrow will be a magic day!

Horror Discarded for Want of Bodies

The bodies have not piled up Zimbabwe, yet.

Baghdad and Blacksburg

I had just finished writing an editorial inspired by this reported quote from Iraqi mothers, had spent the morning looking at websites enumerating civilian deaths in Iraq and describing the correlative effects of the war on daily life.

Then I heard on the radio of the shootings at Virginia Tech, and even as the reported death count rose throughout the afternoon, I still, horribly, felt dispassionate about the whole affair.

This is a sickness, the comparing of one horror to another, only to discard one for want of bodies.

Yet I must let others feel burdened by the Blacksburg tragedy. I can't pretend that I feel anything more than passing sadness. Might as well try to keep the sorrow well-distributed.

Was It Something I Said?

I dreamed I said something clever to a room full of people, something about guilt and truth. No one laughed aloud, but I could sense appreciation. As I made eye contact with one man, he smiled at me.

I was leaning on a stool, one foot on a rung, bottom half on the seat, in a terribly Casual Manager pose, but my dream-brain was full of surprise at my own cleverness. I couldn't believe I had said something funny, and I didn't know what to say next.

Later in my dream, my husband wouldn't talk to me.