That crazy mess posted this morning has to do with a number of things. I'm not going to explain all of them. But I will say, I've been away from my home for the better part of a week and won't get back there for a number of days yet. Part of that is because I was in Chicago last week with a work training thing. Part of it is because this week I'm staying with young Sam again while his mother is away on business.
Suddenly my world is revolving around kid homework and getting him out to school on time and conversations like “yeah, well Kid, grade four girls won’t like you when your fingernails look like THAT.” And the accomplice, Sam’s dog, whose primary concern in life is SQUIRREL!
Today, after the dog was fed and had barked all the squirrels their final warnings for the morning, and the kid, in some clean clothes with a full belly and more or less tamed bed-hair sauntered off into the schoolyard, I took with me into my day the sounds of whistling I'd heard from him as he played over the weekend. The kind of whistling that comes from a happy boy inventing remarkable inventions in a fantastic world in his mind.
Little boy whistling. Beautiful thing number 73.