I am sitting here with a blank page in front of me and an incredible urge to write … and nothing to write about. It’s a rare day when I have nothing to say! But really and truly, nothing funny or interesting has happened recently. No fires, no floods, no getting stuck on slides, nothing at all of note.
I was sitting here pondering how this could be when suddenly it occurred to me. My husband lost his job almost two weeks ago and, as a result, is free to “supervise” me. When I go near the stove, he is quick to intervene. When I take our daughter to the park, he and his level head often come along.
Fortunately (or unfortunately), our daughter seems to have inherited my propensity to get into trouble. For example, after leaving her to feed pasta to herself the other night (bad decision – I know), she ended up with tomato sauce covering every inch of her face, much of her hair, and much of her clothing. After spending a couple of hours bathing her and scrubbing her clothes, we have learned our lesson and will never get sidetracked during dinner again.
While I was out the other day, my husband decided to give Evelyn crayons and paper so she could colour. I’ve learned that a crayon-wielding Evelyn is best kept in a high chair. My husband had not yet learned that lesson and, leaving her on the loose, ran upstairs for a quick second. When he came down, there was crayon all over the television screen and Evelyn’s cleaning cloth was conveniently hidden in the pantry.
Like her mother, our daughter warrants an eagle eye.
Life under supervision certainly lacks drama. But it’s kind of nice, actually. Calm. Peaceful. Serene.
Even if I do suddenly have nothing to talk about.