Forgive me, I'm new at this.

The curtains in my kitchen are not red. In fact, there are no curtains at all in my kitchen. No windows, unless you count the top of my back door. But someday I'm going to have a wood frame window in my kitchen that opens outwards so I can leave it open and listen to the rain and it will have red curtains, patterned all over with little white poodles or maybe purple ones, with yellow collars.

Leo's been ripping up books again. Leo is the tyrant two year that I live with and I hate it when he rips up books. He can grind rice krispies into the living room carpet, throw grapes at the lamps, shove hot wheels up the hose of the vacuum cleaner and I will shake my head and shrug like the defeated mothers of two year olds everywhere have learned to do. But when he starts pulling pages and pop up flaps out of books I get mental. It's a book for god's sake. Eric Carle's blood, sweat and tears went into this. Some things have to be held sacred. So, Leo looks up at me holding shredded pages and says "caterpillow". How does one stay mad at someone who calls caterpillars "caterpillows" and bumblebees "grumble bees"? I can't.

Well, that's it. His fifteen minutes of independent play seem to be coming to an end and my moment of independent thought is about to end with it. Off to pick grapes out of my lampshades.