Saturday, May 29, 2010
Mom, mom, mom
I love having Ellie along for bike rides, but I sort of have to gear up for those trips since she becomes a non-stop stream of chatter.
Are the horsies out today?
Mom, where does the wind live?
Does the sun go to sleep when we can't see it?
I'm looking at the sun, mom. Actually, I'm just kidding. Actually.
Mom, why is the wind loud in my ears?
Look, look the horsies ARE out today!
Mom, why do the weeds look like flowers?
Mom, mom, mom!
Mom, why are you making loud breath noises?
Ellie, please wait until I get to the top of this hill before you ask me anything else.
Mom, why are you not going faster? I like going faster. Mom? I'm firsty.
Ellie. Please. Don't. Talk. Until. We. Get. To. The. Stop. Sign. (gasp, pant, wheeze).
How come I can't talk to you? Oh, I know. It's 'cuz hills make it so you can't listen.
Approximately 30 seconds of blissful, sweat-ridden, muscle-straining silence. Then...
Mom? Could you used to fly when you were a girl?
And so on, and so on for another 40 minutes or until my ears start to bleed and fall off.