a cooking pot and twisted tales
In auto mode, I quickly tossed ingredients into the bubbling sauce, rehashed a passage for my book in my head while trying to pay attention to the cacophony of my children’s voices milling around me in the kitchen.
They had just returned from school, each voice was relaying some information, each child wanted some form of attention and as usual, my three ears was listening to them, responding to their inquisition, addressing the accusation from my third child that I wasn’t paying him enough attention, stirring the saucepan, figuring out my passage and reminding myself respond to that request that had just popped into my mind as a reminder…and the crazy beat went on.
Why I haven’t gone batty is a question I ponder fleetingly. When will the hecticness stop, if ever?
My bubbly sauce was almost done, all that remained was to toss in the shredded fresh thyme and…
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