dreams

Yesterday was Will’s last day of school.  There was only a morning service and then they were released.  The car line up was enormous, with both the middle and the upper school getting out at the same time.  I kept turning my car engine off, in the long pauses.  Which was really quite pointless, because I drive a prius and the amount they pollute is minimal, not to mention, generally, in idle, the battery takes over.  But with the de-fogger going, I could hear the engine running and so I’d turn it off just in case.  It took me 22 minutes to get to the front of the line.  And there Will was, smiling, carrying the empty brownie pan from the day before.  There is something about the way my heart soars when I am out in public and see one of my children coming towards me, out of a crowd of strangers.  The familiarness of their stride, their faces.  The way Will folded his tall body into our small car.  Awkward and graceful all at once. 

His friend was over.  When his mum and little brother came by I fixed us a cup of tea and we ate some of my chocolate chip cookies (No special, secret Meg recipe.  Just look Toll house chocolate chip cookies up on line.  Follow the recipe and use chopped pecans for the nuts.  You don’t have to cook all the dough at once.  I’ve found with less kids in the house that it works best if I only cook a batch or two and put the rest of the dough in the fridge for later.  In my opinion, cookies are always best served right out of the oven and warm.)

Then Will was meeting friends at the movies, so we dropped him off downtown, did a little shopping, had an early dinner.  Splurged on lobster!  Yum.  I asked for a little fresh garlic and salt.  Then I seasoned the warm melted butter just so, added a little lemon and gobbled my very delicious dinner up.  I even had cheesecake for dessert.

The only thing was, I didn’t write.  I used the excuse that the day was too broken up.  That Will was leaving soon.  There was other stuff too.  Stuff that I don’t want to write about anymore here on the blog.  I’ve given that whole situation way too much space.  On my blog, in my life.  I’m am working hard on letting go.  Trying not to worry.  It’s out of my hands.  But my mind takes over sometimes if I’m not vigilant.  (Like right now, for instance)

Anyway, I had plenty of good excuses not to write and I used them all. 

We talked, watched the tivoed Biggest Loser from last week.  Next Tuesday is the last show.  My husband always cries when the people are revealed, happy and smiling, having made such enormous changes in their lives.  It’s very sweet.

Then we went to bed, to sleep.  I had another bad dream.  There was something in my hair.  Stuck to a tiny strand of hair.  I pulled it out.  It was a lice egg.  Then I pulled out another and another.  Then I saw my boy, flop on the sofa in the family room, relaxed, his head falling back, because he’s comfortable and I realize that he is probably contaminated too.  That the whole house, all the soft furniture, the blankets, the bedding, the clothes, they all must be cleansed.  That I need to be thorough.  Even though it’s hard work.  Because the alternative is a disaster. If I leave, miss even one little egg, it will hatch and multiply and spread until it effects not only us, our family, but everybody that comes in contact with us, and they will be infected too.

I woke up, shaken, sad.  Knowing what I must do, but too tired to want to face it.  Don snoring softly beside me asleep.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, December 15, 2007 in Chewing the Fat

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