December 07, 2006

Sometimes

Sometimes you have to spend money.

Sometimes you have to deal with an automated system in order to travel, making you sometimes wish you had a personal assistant.

Sometimes you have to get on an airplane, figuring that if you die, someone at home will find your planner and figure out whose Christmas presents are whose.

Sometimes Minnesota is cold. Mostly Minnesota is cold.

Sometimes you wonder if you could get jazzed about a minivan. Realize you’re mostly lame, so yes, you could.

Sometimes all you want is Christmas movies and cocoa, and sometimes people totally deliver.

Colorado mountain living can sometimes give you nosebleeds.

Sometimes you’ll be followed by children, and realize you don’t hate it at all.

Sometimes you have to spend a whole day eating naught but sugar cookies and coffee, twitching like you swallowed a box of ACME earthquake pills.

Sometimes you just don’t work out. For a week. And don’t notice.

Sometimes you forget that sewing is a skill.

When you have an entire conversation with your brother-in-law about crochet, in which he is genuinely interested, you sometimes wonder if you could be bothered to turn a heel and attempt some socks.

Sometimes—no, all the time—little kids want to help.

Sometimes the best intentions of children buy a one-way ticket to My Last Nerve.

They didn’t really mean to; sometimes they just get too excited.

Sometimes you don’t need to say anything.

Sometimes mountains are carpeted with trees, sometimes bare and craggy, but always a sight worth seeing.

Sometimes you laugh until you need your inhaler, and wonder how long it’s been since that happened.

Sometimes you forget that you can get drunk on one glass of wine—which is fine, because you’ll forget everything that comes after it, anyway.

Sometimes, doing nothing is too much to handle.

Sometimes you just can’t get angry at little kids—and other times you really, really can.

Sometimes ‘I love you’ is disguised as ‘help me get dressed’.

Sometimes John Denver is cool.

Sometimes you can make a joke last all week.

Travel, although it has always been one of your favorite things, can sometimes be a big pain in the ass.

Sometimes you’ll not notice it’s been a week since you cursed.

Sometimes you’ll stay up until two in the morning, just talking, with the one sister you never really did that with before.

Sometimes I have the mind of a child.

Sometimes you eat food without wondering how many calories are in it, whether it’s a carb, or if you should eat soup for dinner to even things out.

Sometimes, when you go someplace new, you feel like you’ve always lived there.

Sometimes, like when your niece wants you to pick her up and tell her about butterflies, you get some warm fuzzies you can’t even make a joke about.

Sometimes I roll my eyes, wondering where all my vitriol has gone.

Sometimes you’ll laugh at a poop joke.

During turbulence, you will make well-intended oaths to the clouds about convents and celibacy, provided you are allowed to live. Much more often than ‘sometimes’.

Sometimes you’ll wish she’d packed you another cookie.

Sometimes you’ll be glad of family.

Sometimes it’s really not all that shocking.

1 comment:

Team-C4 said...

I'm crying now. I. Miss. You.
And I TRIED to pack you another cookie. And John Denver is cool ALL of the time. And I love you lots.