Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Why am I still sick?

Why can't I hear out of my right ear?

Should I go to the doctor? Do I HAVE to?

Why do novels have to be so long/why can't I write long sentences?

Is my blog just a big complaint fest?

True story:

K: Can I tell you something?

Me: Yeah?

K: Do you have a mother?

Me: I do have a mother. She lives in Chicago.

K: Why doesn't she live in the same country as you?

Me: Well, sometimes grownups don't have to live with their moms anymore.

(K makes deeply troubled face.)


K: Can I tell you something?

Me: Yeah?

K: Today on my way to dance class [she means my class] I saw my dad's gym trainer.

Me: Did you say hi?

K: He was going really fast and my mom wouldn't let me catch him.


Michael Northrop said...

Leigh Stein, writing feverishly.

Anonymous said...

conversations with children are really one of my favorite things. so psychedelic & earnest.