Day Three

I am in Colorado.

Day three of this no work, no school business.

I am keeping mom company in the kitchen as she cooks lunch, reading to her from Vaclav Havel's Letters to Olga in between snatching tid-bits of tasty things out of the frying pan.

I have been chastised numerous times for 'picking' at the lunch, but I think it's a half-flattered type of chastising.

Anywho, we're waiting to Paloma to come home from work at the coal plant before eating. Isn't that funny? I never thought I'd wait for anyone to come home from a coal plant before sitting down to lunch, but there it is.

Dad is out changing the oil in my car and writing down milages and oil types and other queer automotive notations I don't exactly care enough about to try to understand.

Today I found a gray hair on my head. Not even gray, a WHITE hair. My very first white hair. If this is an omen of things to come, I am not excited. I'm 23 and 11 months old. How fair is it to have a white hair at 23 years and 11 months? You'd think biology could hold off for another few years, at least til I'm thirty. I guess I could be thankful; Proverbs 16 says that "The hoary head is a crown of glory; It shall be found in the way of righteousness."

I'm thankful for my righteous, hoary head.

Ha.

Well, Paloma has come from the coal plant, mom has finished lunch, and dad is done with the oil change. I suppose I'm off to eat. But I don't quite feel hungry anymore. I wonder if that's due to the 'picking.'