About 25 years ago, I could set and glaze window panes without the slightest difficulty. Yesterday, I had a lot of trouble. Not only that, but I felt all day like I’d been drinking Kryptonite milkshakes – fat, tired, listless, insipid. I made mess out of part of one window, then gave it up as a bad job. Maybe I will return to the task come fall. Went back into the house and played with the baby, fed him, nodded off while feeding him.
In the afternoon, my wife and I drove to Murfreesboro to meet a Nashville couple we know. They’ve got triplets, born a month before our son, but very tiny still. The mall has all its shops outdoors, and all of the baby stores in one area. Sort of like a baby park. Interesting to see, meet, speak with so many parents with their infants and small children. The triplets, in their triplet stroller (with steering wheel) attracted a lot of attention.
Jon and I debated whether Elmo is a demonic squirrel. I said he is, as evidenced by the fact that he’s red and sings. Jon claimed Elmo’s nothing like the demonic squirrels he had as pets, or familiars, when he was a kid. I asked how he could be so sure, and he claimed he couldn’t tell me on account of a sulphuric oath. My guess is he couldn’t think of a nonsense response sufficiently amusing to win the debate.
We ate at a girly restaurant called Mimi’s built of frame and stucco to resemble a WWI French inn of the sort where you might see Snoopy in flying helmet drinking rootbeer, cursing the stupidness of that most unnecessary and stupid of wars. My headache began splitting after supper while the wives shopped for more baby clothes bargains. The triplets began to fuss, and their mother told their father, “Jon, they’re falling apart…”
“Me too,” I thought.
At home I crashed. A cold? Kryptonite in my toothpaste? Who knows. I’m not a hundred percent today, either.
Accomplished nothing this weekend.