sueeeus

Lest there be an explosion in Australia.

Continuing with the season of indulgence for which there is no end on the horizon, I, sueeeus maximus, do hereby make this most auspicious announcement, oh Internets, of my intent to sojourn to the vast and glorious land of Oz, to visit my friend of many many years, the famous and well-beloved of many bloggers far and anon, Suse In The Soup. Yes, I must experience first hand a glimpse of life in a mud-brick house.

February, 2008.

Lack of courage notwithstanding, I might venture forth to meet and greet some of the fine bloggers of the southern hemisphere. I am much more timid in the flesh, so this may take some coaxing.

Meanwhile, I have from now until then to, uh, let me see…

• plan
• gather courage
  • courage to leave my BBC
  • courage to fly (it is, statistically speaking, one of the safest forms of transportation)
  • courage to visit a foreign land
  • courage to interact with people away from the safety of my computer screen
  • courage to meet new people, real people, alive, in the flesh. Oh dear Lord. Real people.
  • courage to leave my BBC
  • courage to leave my BBC
  • courage to leave my BBC
• dispel guilt
  • guilt over leaving my BBC
  • guilt over wanting to do this alone, without bringing Mr. Gadget
  • guilt over leaving my BBC
  • guilt over leaving my BBC
  • guilt over leaving my BBC
  • guilt over leaving my BBC
• plan
  • plan, plan, plan
  • where to go, what to see, what to pack, what to wear, what to bring, electrical considerations, customs considerations, etc etc etc

I leave this post, oh dear Internets, trembling and quaking in excitement, fear, and trepidation all.

Upon waking, the beautiful boy child (BBC) announced, “I go pay in my woom.” Shall wonders never cease? A morning to myself?

First things first. Go to the computer to log my temp. Quickly peruse some blogs and check for comments. While making my first (and thus far only comment), a small voice calls from atop the stairs. “Mohhhhhhhhh-meeeeeee, where arrrrrrrre you? You in da kitchin? You in da kitchen, Mommy? You in da offish? You in da offish Mommy?”

“I’m in the office, Honey.”

“You in da offish, Honey?” A little person appears by my side, Star Bellied Sneetch (Star) in one hand, humongous stuffed bull in the other. It appears to be a ‘play with stuffed animals’ morning. He disappears, dragging his friends along.

“Star’s in twuh-bbbble,” announces the small blonde boy, who has reappeared by my side. There is a distinct tone of sympathy in his little boy voice. I follow him to the living room, and sure enough, there is Star, seated in the Time Out Chair. “Star’s in teeeem-oww. He gawt in twuh-bbbble.”

“Oh? What did Star do that was naughty?” Most transgressions Chez Sueeeus involve not listening, disobeying, and the throwing of things. Oh. And playing with faucets and running water. And writing in books that are not coloring books. And tearing pages from books. Especially pop-up books.

“He gawt in twuh-bbbble.”

Poor Star. A few minutes later, a small blonde boy picks up a sock and hurls with all his might, slinging it across the room.

“Why did you throw your sock?”

“Becuzz.”

“Because why?”

“Becuzz.”

“Because is not an answer. It’s the beginning of an answer.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the way language works.” I could see I was beginning to lose ground.

“Why?”

“Because.” Defeated. By a two-and-two-thirds-year-old.