Second, third, and fourth thoughts

From time to time in my life, I have paused in the middle of whatever Very Important Activity I was doing, slapped myself on the forehead and said to myself, "DANG! I forgot to have children!" Usually this would occur because I was doing something that a proper-aged child would be able to do for me, thus freeing me to recline on a chaise longue, sipping a cool beverage.

For example, say the kid is six (they really aren't much use before then, I think) he could bring in the mail, answer phone calls and claim his mother is too busy to come to the phone, or make scrambled eggs and toast.

Say you have a ten-year-old with a decent bicycle, you've got your minor food shopping errands all wrapped up. I would be kind about it; I wouldn't send him or her for feminine hygiene products or smutty magazines. I am still traumatized by the time my mother sent me to the store JUST for toilet paper when I was ten. If only I could have surrounded the t.p. with some carrots or potato chips or laundry detergent, or preferably all the above, the humiliation would have been tempered. But no. I had to go in there and let the whole world know that people in my home not only used the toilet, but HAD NO TOILET PAPER. Arrrggggghhhhhhh, the horrors. So, I would send the kid for lemon, since I never seem to have one when I need it, or cream of tartar or something. And I would let him/her keep the change if it was less than a quarter.

The ages between ten and sixteen would be rife with opportunities for service. By now, a well-brought-up child should be able to vacuum, mow the lawn, tend to younger children, make some simple meals, ride the decent bike farther and faster for more erranding. The mind reels.

So, sixteen. Now we're talking. A driver. I feel faint just thinking about all the chores that could be unloaded onto a driving kid. Major grocery shopping, check! Drugstore, check! Dry cleaning, check! Driving Mama to and from bars, no, I guess that is just Wrong.

Even though I have not personally reproduced, I'm pretty sure this is exactly how it works, right?

Lately I have been thinking how I really need to have children for blogging purposes. I have been reading all the blogs, and I notice how the most hilarity, pathos, warmth, and tragedy come from the kid stories. I'm like, man, these bloggers have it easy! They don't have to sit around, thinking up clever things to say, oh no. They just watch what the kids do and write it down. Heck, if the kid is six or more, she could probably write the whole thing and sign Mommy's name to it. (I know that's what I would do.) I'm thinking that what I need to do is make up some kids and then tell things about them. For starters, I believe I'll have Poppy, Lily, and Calvin. (I can't think of a flower name for a boy.) Poppy is a 12-year-old "A" student and successful child model, who raises money to save manatees in her spare time, except when she is entertaining at nursing homes. Lily, the 16-year-old, is morose and quiet. Too quiet. Calvin is an irrepressible and precocious 6-year-old with a stuffed tiger that talks to him . . . er, maybe this isn't going to work out after all. Never mind.

Meanwhile, I do have something of my own to report. I cleared that room! Here it is now:

And here is the craft closet I put in there:


Now maybe I can get some SEWING done and have some swell photos of stuff to show. Stay tuned!