behindtheax

sorry henry

The 7th already – library books due today. I am returning the Bostonians unfinished. I tried but it was boring me to tears. I guess I’m not sophisticated enough for Henry? Silk purse, sow’s ear - C’est La vive. Back to monsters crawling out of sewers. Well it isn’t totally my fault – every evening that I tried to pick it up, I had two excited daughters who wanted to talk about the coming school year and their friends and clothes and what this one said about that one – I did try to read this book. I waited til they were ready for bed, when they were in their rooms, when I thought it was safe to crawl into my own bed with book in hand, arrange my two pillows against the head board for extra comfort and then open the book to the page where I had last left Olive and Verna and the crew. However, by about the third paragraph each evening, I would hear a soft knock on my bedroom door. And before I could even utter the words, come in, my two very long daughters would first fling and then stretch themselves across my bed wanting to talk the night away. Greg would usually be in the basement office at the computer and I would make attempts to regain my solitude by asking both of them pleasantly about a half a dozen times, “can we talk in the morning? I just want to read a little.”
But they would continue on from one story to the next, finding great humor in every little situation they were describing until Henry’s masterpiece had to be once again closed and set atop the radiator beneath my window. Reading glasses folded and placed on top of it. It was just unable to compete with these two emerging and truly remarkable butterflies that settled on my top sheets every evening for the past two weeks.

posted by mary j. @ 9:55 AM