Tuesday, January 20, 2009

p173

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.)

Later,

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.

2 comments:

Michael Northrop said...

Leigh Stein, writing feverishly.

lovebettie said...

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