There was a snowman in the front yard of a house in our town.
I saw it, two snowballs with a red bandana on the head. Some kind of hip snowguy.
Mama saw it and commented that the poor snowman had been decapitated--ball #3 must have fallen off leaving the scarf and the body.
And thus two people can see the same thing totally differently. We laughed about it--the optimist and the pessimist, half-full and half-empty. And I said it would make a funny post. And then we talked about how I almost never write about her.
I realize that the casual reader of this blog would not receive from it a well-defined or even fuzzy picture of Mama, who is always in the background of my posts but never their subject. Why don't I blog about the other people in my life whom I love? My friends make rare appearances, my parents and sister even fewer. And Mama is like an apparition hovering around the stories. Of course, those of you who know us realize that I love her dearly and that she is central to my life and our family.
But not to this blog, which is about me and my experiences mothering, which is why the children appear more frequently than anyone but me. Sure, Mama is also a key component in how I parent because we discuss all aspects of parenting and work out strategies together, and I do write about that sometimes. I think her absence--and the absence of the other family and friends--must be the private streak in this otherwise public but personal, narcissistic blog.
However, when something as funny as two opinions on a snowman happen, I have to share.
What would you have said?
No comments:
Post a Comment