I AM IN LOVE

We have a newish egress window.  The other day my son came upstairs and told me a little animal had fallen into the well of the window.  I went out to investigate and there I found Blarina brevicauda.  (Knowing the Latin names of some mammals has gotten me nowhere in life, but considering the amount of money we spent on my undergraduate education, I pull that shit out whenever I can.)  Anyway, this little thing was trying to find its way out, but failing miserably.  The Steady came to the side of the house with a metal bucket.  I needed to get it into the bucket, but it kept insisting on burrowing its pointy little head into the rocks on the side of the well.  I tried to shoo it into the bucket and even tried to pick it up.  It squealed at me and nipped my finger real saucy-like.  

Which is fair.  I one-hundred precent deserved that.

So, there we were, locked in a stalemate for a moment, just looking at each other.  And I don't know if you have ever seen a shew before, but they have pin pricks for eyes.  But I swear to god, it looked at me as I gestured at the metal bucket I was holding, and then it climbed right in.  It almost did this with an air of resignation.  I'm not even making that up.  We put it back by the wood pile and all I can think about today is its velvety little body.    

THESE FUCKING KIDS

I like to walk and read.  I do it all the time and the trails around my house are all very familiar to me.  This morning I was finishing up "The Color of Law" by Richard Rothstein and walking down a path that had a clear painted line between the pedestrian and bike path.  I am so engrossed in this book I am not looking up at people who pass me.  I am aware that people are around me, but I'm not interested in engaging in eye contact or anything.  

As I'm walking I hear someone say in a snobby voice, "hello."  I turn around and see these two late teen slash early twenties girls walking away from me.  I'm like, "Is something the matter?"  And one of them, the yoga pants, crop top, sunglasses, sipping out of a single-use plastic cup goes on to tell me that I was being rude by not moving over so that the two of them could continue walking side by side.  I said, "I bike a lot and it's unsafe when people walk in the bike lane.  You had room to move over, too."  She said if she moved over, she would have to walk on the dirt path.  

I so badly wanted to say, "Oh kitten.  You're so precious.  Your mommy and daddy might tell you you're special, but you actually don't have the right to take up any more space than anyone else."

Instead I told her she was an entitled baby and continued on my way. 

KEEPING UP WITH THE JONESES

Someone nearby chose "FiveFootTallClownDoll" as their internet network name.  I don't know which one of these weirdos it is, but I so badly want to rename ours, "SixFootTallClownDoll."

POTTERY BARN BABIES

In the early 2000s I used to love looking through my then, mother-in-law's Pottery Barn magazines, to read the kids names written on the fridge or family chalkboard...  

Sidney

Chase

Paige

Spencer

Sloane

Harper

Emerson

I never knew anyone named Barrett so I just assumed the marketing team was targeting...a different demographic, not mine.  Anyway, someone recently introduced their kid Finley and immediately I thought of them as a Pottery Barn kid.