Scattered

Now that I have everybody's attention through begging, nagging, cajoling etc and so forth (now where did I plagiarize that from - don't tell me I just remembered - Kurt Vonnegut but not which novel?), I'm going to have to produce. But you have to know I'm scattered. Okay no excuses (those would take up the whole page).

Everyday two of the other children got to play with the big doll house. I was waiting for my turn. It never came. Lisa and I had to go to first grade after only a half year of kindergarten. I never asked Lisa if she ever got to play with the dollhouse. Okay I'm whining and making excuses for not having ever grown up just because I had only a half year of kindergarten. I use that excuse all the time especially when I get mixed up with right and left. "I told you to turn right instead of left because I only had half a year of kindergarten."
Okay so I'm scattered. I'm reading three books at once and then bought a dozen more at the thrift store so now I'm reading 5 books at once. Ah, but it's the one I read before I fall asleep that really matters. I got back to Jung last night and had fabulous dreams. It's always nice to find someone else who had a confusing childhood.
I even found a book for Eliot at Stepping Stones which is quite a feat because Eliot hasn't read a book since he was 12 years old that didn't talk about trails. It's about squirrels.
When I was barefoot and pregnant in Arkansas, well actually I wasn't pregnant anymore. It's another expression I use too much like "I only had half a year of kindergarten" like I'm trying to be Andy Rooney or Sam Levinson. So the three children and I would go to the library once a week and get lots of books. Half of mine would be for my husband. This was one of the few things I could do to please him besides buy his Irish Whiskey.
Mark (my husband) and Eliot (my current paramour - a word I introduced to his illiterate family and friends at his granddaughter's 23rd birthday party last week) are so different they could belong to different species: homo intellectus and homo hikeus.
Oops, did I mention I was scattered?
Off to the urologist, another funny guy who likes to stick a gidget up my widget (his expresssion , not mine). He has cartoons on the ceiling so that when you're lying on your back with your legs in those contraptions, you can read them and laugh instead of wince.