In the category of "Mommy Blogs": a chronicle of my life in Chicago and wherever it takes me. Stories from my past.

Monday, January 31, 2005

The Hairy Feet of Time

Now I'm slightly embarrassed about what I said in the previous post. Hello again, it is I, Mamaramma. Doesn't that sound like some kind of Super-Savings-Dollar-Store for all things Parental? I really, really , really don't want to shop there.
What happened to all the time I used to have in my life? Can anyone answer that? Do you remember being 5 years old, and being told that you were going to the Waterslide Park later on that day - so you'd ask, "When?" and your parents would say, "In 5 hours." and you wanted to DIE because you'd never get through five HOURS!!! FIVE HOURS was an ETERNITY, and you could hear the second hand on the grandfather clock beating in your eardrums for FIVE HOURS?! Then finally, 5 HOURS passed, and there you were at the Waterslide Park, and some teenager kicks you in the eye while you're wating for your best friend to come down the slide behind you. But it wasn't your friend behind you, it was some teenager with hairy feet who teaches you the lesson that you shouldn't stand so close to the edge of the slide while teenagers are coming down it at 20 mph. Anyway, it was wonderful- and practically a whole other day as far as a five year old is concerned.
Now one week doesn't last as long as those anxious five hours, and there's hardly any time to even think about getting a haircut. OK - I do think about it. All the time. So sue me. I think about my little girl, though, and wonder how long she thinks a day is. To her five hours must seem like 5 months in the inflation of time.
To me, five hours goes by as quickly as being kicked in the eye by some hairy-footed teenager.

The Hairy Feet of Time


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