Day 996, March 6, 2023

Namesake

The children are grown. 

Funny to imagine walking through a grocery store with one strapped to my chest in a snuggly. 

I was watched last night by a baby in a high chair, while its parents feasted on a hotpot and assorted side dishes. The baby waited for my acknowledgement before turning back to the task at hand. It took three waitstaff to clean the table, chairs, and floor after they were done. 

When I visited China, the babies didn’t wear diapers. Their pants were convenient, and when they had to go, they went. 

We learn from the things we are allowed to, not from what we are prevented doing. 

We didn’t allow Disney and Barbie. I don’t recall it being an issue, but we probably would not have allowed guns either. 

After I left home, all the chickens were slaughtered. I could not bring myself to kill the perpetrator, so she and her babies continued to propagate. I had cut a hole into the wall of the coop and inset a Pyrex bowl, held in place with silicone caulk, to let in light, and let the chickens see out into the world, even on a rainy day. 

After my youngest was born, there was a snowstorm. Lianna didn’t think I should be driving, but the twins had a station wagon chant, and that gave me confidence and a stoic stamina as we moved through the unplowed streets so slowly, I could hear the snow crunch and squeak under the tires. We moved no faster than a horse might ride, and arrived in just enough time for a child’s name to disappear.

Hambone can’t hear me.