So it’s day 12 of NaBloPoMo and I’m struggling tonight to think of something to say from outside Max’s guitar lesson. He spent the few minutes in the waiting room with me just running his mouth, which isn’t that unusual, but after a three day weekend, I’m at the end of my listening capabilities. I work hard at tolerating and even encouraging these conversations, and I know with the teenage years approaching, they may soon be gone. But I’m feeling that Sunday night stress on a Monday evening and my eyelid is twitching and so yea, enough.
Perhaps something more riveting tomorrow.